


Snail shell brothers

by Polly_Flint



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Lonely Sam Winchester, M/M, Multi, Other, POV Sam Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Summer, Summer 93, Young Adults, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, ghost - Freeform, keeping secrets, secret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2020-03-30 01:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 51,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19031692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polly_Flint/pseuds/Polly_Flint
Summary: It was the summer the sky was so blue, like a photo filter lay over the world. But Sam had always been a lonely child and Dean bright as a star falling from heaven. It was the summer there were too many secrets in the world. The old house they lived in, the missing girl, and Dad, who acted strange. It was the last summer of his childhood and when it ended nothing was like it used to be.





	1. Before Summer Began

 

**Chapter 1: Before Summer Began**

 

The problems started in the summer I turned ten years old.

 

Some might say that that’s wrong and that the problems started much earlier. When the demon took my mom for example, or the day I was born. Dad sometimes made jokes about it, when he drank beer during the evening and was lying on the sofa.

“How easy my life was, before you two were born.“

Of course, that would mean that the problems already started with Dean, but that’s idiotic. There had already been problems before he or I were there. You could as well say: the problems started, when god created Adam and Eve.

 

Well, but the problems with my family started in the summer I turned ten years old and we moved into the house in Snover, Michigan, at least that was when I really noticed. It was a summer like out of a photo book. The sky was so blue, like someone had painted it, and the sunlight so bright, like it could only be in a memory.

The summer of 93 had been hot, so hot that sweat glued every pore and you lay awake at night, hoping for rain or being ready to sell your soul for a breeze of wind.

We waited for rain for a whole summer, but when it finally fell and brought along storm and lightning, nothing was like it used to be. Nothing.

 

Where should I start my story?

Best would be the beginning, right?

The last school I went to before summer came was the Martin Luther King Elementary in Columbia and we were supposed to write a letter to students in China for “international understanding“. My writing partner’s name was Chen Fei and I wasn't even sure, if that was a girl or not.

“Hello, Chen Fei,“ I wrote. “My name is Sam Winchester. Winchester, like the shotgun, and I’m ten years old.“ I thought about what else to write. “My favorite class in school is maths and my favorite food is chocolate. What do you like best?“ Now it got harder. “I have a dad, called John Winchester, and an older brother, Dean. Sometimes Dean’s annoying and sometimes he’s nice.“ I chewed on the pen, while our teacher Mr Martins was walking through the rows. “My mom is dead. That’s sad, though not that bad, because she died long ago. Much longer than I can even think back.“ If Chen Fei had a mother? Surely, after all the very most children in the world had a mother, even in China.

When I was little, I thought that all families were like mine, without a mom and without a house, but with a car and always on the road.

“My dad is a salesman and that’s why we always have to travel, so it’s not that bad, if you don’t write me back, because I’ll probably not here anymore anyway. Greets, Sam.“

 

Displeased, I put away the piece of paper.

 

Only when I went to school, I realized that other families were different to my own. That my classmates lived in their own rooms, with toys and a grill - well, that wasn't in their rooms, of course, but on the terrace. They had grandparents and Christmas and everything they could wish for. Sometimes I imagined heaven like that. Only with more books. I like books, for in books is written everything that ever happened. Every story and every adventure, just everything.

 

“That’d be a drag,“ Dean had declared, when Dad wasn't there, like actually always, and he did homework with me. “Who wants to live a boring life like that, always in the same place?“

 

I didn’t know what to find more sad: that that was his only point or that that was exactly what I wished for.

 

Every time we checked in a new hotel and Dean and Dad were getting the luggage and I was all alone for a moment, I threw myself on the bed and imagined this to be my room now, that I could invite friends or put up posters. The hotel rooms smelled different in every town. That’s why I knew that they could never be a real home. Real houses smell like the families that live there and the families smell like them.

I believe my family doesn't smell like anything, save for sweat maybe, but maybe I just can’t judge, because I’m a part of them? I believe you can’t smell yourself, just like you can’t tickle yourself.

Maybe the problem wasn't even us having to move all the time. Maybe the problem was that my dad wasn't really a salesman? But I wasn't allowed to talk about it with anybody.

 

In any case, I prayed every night.

“Dear god, please make me live in a real house. Best would be a white one with a veranda.“ And so it wouldn't sound too impudent and god would be more likely to help me, I added a “and keep my family safe“ most of the time.

 

Dean was lying on his bed and watched me, shaking his head. A clear disadvantage of always sharing a hotel room with your brother.

 

“Let’s ignore the fact for a moment that god doesn't exist. You really think he’d have time to get you a house?“

 

“He’s got angels to do it for him.“

 

I moved my chin forwards in a sullen manner.

 

“Ah, and they’ll search a house for you then?“

 

“Maybe?“

 

You need to know, Dean always wants to be right.

 

Sometimes when we were new in a town and drove through a neighborhood, I gathered the houses I would want to live in inside my head, just like other children did it with baseball cards. There was a house in Columbia, I liked it best. It had white wooden walls, an oriel that was shaped like a small tower, and a veranda with a Hollywood swing on it.

I found it so nice that I had told Marc I lived in it. I didn't even like Marc. We surely weren't friends and the whole thing sure wouldn't even have happened, if the first day, after the teacher had introduced me to the class, he hadn't looked at me the way you look at something disgusting sticking to your shoe.

 

“The way he looks, he sure lives in Sunshine Drive,“ he whispered to his friend, who instantly joined him laughing.

The Sunshine Drive, I had already figured out, was the worst district of Columbia. Where the industrial park merged into shabby apartment buildings and where our motel was, of course.

 

“You know that large white house in Lincoln Boulevard? We just moved in a couple of days ago.“

 

I thought he had looked very impressed.

 

Dean had said that it was okay to lie, if necessary, but I didn't know, if you should trust Dean in that matter. Dean, that is to say, stole things in supermarkets and said that that was okay.

The problem with lying wasn't necessarily that it was morally wrong, but that it always comes back to you, like a boomerang.

 

At first, Marc looking so impressed, I really felt good, but at the latest when Sally had asked, if she should pick me up for school tomorrow, after all my new home was just on her way, I knew that I had a problem.

From this day on I got up extra early, walked to the house and waited for her by the garden gate, acting as if I had just come out of the door.

 

“My mom doesn't like visitors that much,“ I had explained to her, so she wouldn't wonder why nobody was allowed inside, not even for a moment to copy the exercises from the maths sheet. “Her nerves.“ With that I rolled my eyes like grown-ups do it.

“My mom is really great and reads every wish from my lips, but since the attack she just isn't the same anymore.“

 

“An attack, how awful! Is that why you moved?“

 

The girls had formed a circle of chairs around my spot and I got a faint hint of the popularity streaming towards my brother every day.

 

I nodded.

 

“It was really bad for us.“

 

Sheepish silence, but then Sally drew something from her bag.

 

“Oh Sam, that makes me remember something. You wanna come to my birthday?“ She handed me the invitation card with colorful balloons on it. “But I’ll celebrate next monday already.“

 

“I’ll only celebrate in two months, but you’re already invited,“ another girl said, whose name I had just forgotten.

 

“I’d like that.“

 

I smiled. Being popular felt so good. Only Marc’s look he threw me from his spot, that didn't feel good at all, just the opposite, and I knew that playing this game would get harder with every move.

Sometimes I thought about ringing the doorbell of the elder married couple living in the house and ask them to help me, but what was I supposed to tell them?

 

_“Excuse me. You don’t know me, but my name’s Sam Winchester and I accidentally pretended to live in your house. You would do me a huge favor, if you just played along, and oh, don’t worry, at the latest in one or two weeks I’ll be gone anyway, because it’s always like that.“_

 

I even thought about telling Sally the truth, but that was even harder.

 

_“Maybe there was a little misunderstanding. Maybe I don’t live in that house where you always pick me up, maybe instead I live in the motel in Sunshine Drive where truck drivers always stay and women with those short clothes. And maybe I don’t even have a mom, who’s struggling with her nerves, because maybe my mom is dead.“_

 

So I didn’t say anything and against expectation nothing bad happened, at least until the day Dean destroyed everything once again.

I was just about to slip out the door to walk to ‘my‘ house, when he got in my way. He had grown quite a lot during the past months and his face had something wild to it that was only pointed out by Dad’s old leather jacket.

The girls in my class put their heads together and giggled, whenever he suddenly showed up during a break to bring me my lunch box I had forgotten, and even Marc didn't dare to say anything stupid when he was there.

 

“Dad called. He’ll be back at the latest tonight.“

 

“Hopefully he’ll bring something to eat.“ I pulled my backpack closer. “Then I finally won’t have to put up with your sticky pasta anymore.“

 

“You can cook next time.“

 

“I would, if you let me, if we had food and you didn't act like I was a toddler that could burn his hands at the hot plate.“

 

I tried to shove past him, but he was faster and grabbed my arm.

 

“Dean, stop it! I really need to go.“

 

“You don’t. School only starts in an hour, so stop whining and help me clean up. Dad’ll kill us, if he comes back and the room looks like this. He sure wants to move on right away.“

 

Yes, the room really didn't look good. There were empty bags of chips lying around, mixed with laundry on the floor and we hadn't brought the pizza boxes of two days ago downstairs as well.

 

“Can’t we do that after school? I really need to go.“ I shifted from one foot to the other impatiently. “Please, Dean.“

 

“You know the saying: there’s no time like the present“

 

I was annoyed that he didn't seem to struggle with pushing me back into the room.

 

“You don’t have a say on me. You’re not my dad!“

 

He didn’t answer, but only handed me the pizza boxes.

 

“The sooner you start, the sooner you’ll be done.“

 

Angrily, I shoved the garbage in the bin and the rest of my stuff into my bag. Luckily, my brother stopped with the miserable educational attempt and didn't call me back, because he had found a hair in the sink. So I had only lost ten minutes. I could still make it and be there in time.

 

I ran through the morning. The sun fell onto the asphalt softly, my lungs were burning and I had the feeling of tasting something metallic on my tongue. I was only one block away now.

When I turned around the corner, I saw Sally talking to an elder lady at the door and that was when I knew that I had lost.

 

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to…“

 

She didn't say anything, her long hair was waving in the wind and she walked past me, as if I was air. When I reached my class, all of a sudden all the conversations went silent. That was when I knew that she had told the others.

 

Marc was laughing.

 

“Hobo Sammy, hobo Sammy… you’re such a freak!“

 

His friends joined his singsong that became louder and louder in my head.

 

“Freak! Freak! Freak!“

 

I wanted to ignore him, really.

But when a scrunched-up piece of paper hit me then as well, I hated him as much as I had never hated anyone in my life before, not even Dean when we had had a fight.

 

It took two teachers to get Marc off me.


	2. Chapter 2: Why Dean Was a Son of a Bitch and I Didn't Like Surprises

 

Later, when I was sitting on the back bench of the Impala and the houses with their white facades and verandas flew by our window, I was somewhat glad that we moved on and left this city behind us.

 

“You could’ve said something.“ Dean turned to me. He was allowed to sit in the front with Dad, while I had to be on the back bench. I leaned my head against the window and narrowed my lips to a thin line.

 

“I can’t read minds, Sammy. Besides, what kinda stupid act was that? Since when do you care what other people think of you? You won’t see them again anyway.“

 

Of course, Dean didn't understand. How would he?

Everyone loved Dean.

Wherever he was people threw confetti and cheered.

Dean was such a good hunter. Dean looked just like Mom… Dean Dean Dean…

How would he know what it was like to be me?

 

Even Dad liked Dean better. Every important matter was discussed with him, as if they were partners, he was the one he brought along for hunts.

Though I could do something as well that Dad could be proud of. I could hunt, too - but no, I was placed in the backseat like a baby and the only thing missing was them buying me a child’s seat.

 

I didn’t answer and crossed my arms. Meanwhile, the town’s houses had given way to free fields and the infinity of the highway.

 

“Two teachers? That’s not bad for a start.“

 

Dad was in a good mood. He even drummed along to the song’s rhythm on the wheel. I wondered if it was for the successful hunt or for the fact that I had been suspended from school. My family was really strange about these things. When I brought home good grades they either got ignored or I felt like they were ashamed of me.

 

“Maybe you are ready to go on a hunt with us.“

 

That was a turn of events I hadn't expected. I jerked forwards and instantly forgot that I actually was in a snit.

 

“Yeah, absolutely! I promise you won’t be disappointed.“

 

“He isn’t even near ready, Dad.“

 

I could barely believe what Dean was saying.

 

“He beat up another ten-year-old, that’s not that great.“ Dean made a discarding wave of his hand. “That doesn't really qualify him for hunting. It only shows that he’s way too heady and also never does what he’s told.“

 

“You jerk!“

 

“Bitch!“

 

Before I even knew what I was doing, I had my hands wrapped around his throat from behind and squeezed. The momentum of surprise was on my side, but when my brother realized what was happening he reached back and scrunched my arms.

 

“You nuts! I’m driving a car.“

 

The Impala made a sudden swing. But neither Dean, nor I reacted to Dad’s words. By the adrenalin submerging my body I barely registered the pain. I only knew that I didn't want to give up. Not this time.

 

“You’re such a stupid son of a bitch.“

 

I blinked away the tears. Dean’s fingernails in my skin still hurt a lot.

The next thing to happen was the door being pulled open. I hadn't even noticed at all that Dad had stopped the car. He grabbed me and forced me to the dusty ground. With shock, I let go of Dean’s throat.

 

“Are you out of your mind, Sam?!“

 

“He always calls everyone a son of a bitch and he never gets in trouble.“

 

It was supposed to sound angry, but in the end it just sounded desperate. It wasn't fair! Just not fair, and my only comfort was that Dad looked up and at Dean. “And you get out, too!“

 

“He attacked me, just like that! I didn't do anything.“

 

“Yeah, you did, you provoked me and made everyone in school hate me!“

 

“Shut up, both of you!“ His voice was so loud that I flinched. “Or I’ll join your little punching fight, and believe me you definitely don’t want that.“

 

Dad clearly wasn't in a good mood anymore. His face was as red as a tomato.

 

“Yes, Sir.“

 

“I’m sorry, Sir.“

 

Both of us lowered our heads.

 

“So you two’ll manage to get in without killing each other?“

 

Dean nodded silently.

 

“But I could really go on a hunt…“

 

“We won’t discuss that anymore, Sam.“

 

“Okay, Sir.“

 

Meanwhile the adrenalin had flattened so much and my mind had returned so much that I was aware that I had only done bad to myself. And another thing had returned: my awareness of pain.

My arms were blue and decorated with red marks. I sucked in some air and tried not to cry.

What a crappy day.

 

 

After Dad had started the car, there was dead silence in the inside. He didn't even turn the radio back on, so the sounds of the engine were the only thing breaking through the silence. I had almost fallen asleep, when Dean’s “Where we going anyway?“ pulled me back.

With a mix of remorse and satisfaction I discovered that he sounded a little bit hoarse.

 

“Oh, it’s a surprise.“

 

Dad’s voice didn't sound like the surprise was a particularly nice one.

I wiped the sleep off my eyes.

 

“Is it a special monster?“ Dean asked.

 

“No.“ Even his laugh sounded exhausted.

 

“We going to Bobby’s?“ I leaned forwards to be able to join the conversation. The Impala’s engine was really loud.

 

“No.“

 

“To the Roadhouse?“

 

“We won’t go to the Roadhouse anymore.“

 

He said it as if it was something forbidden. I exchanged a quick look with Dean.

 

“But Joe and Ellen…“

 

“I told you we won’t go to the Roadhouse anymore!“ He turned the black knob of the radio. Instantly, the silence was filled with a sonorous male voice. I knew that song from somewhere, even when I couldn't remember from where. “If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore. And now be quiet.“

 

He looked ahead to the road and that meant that he wouldn't say anything else to the matter.

 

 

***

“D’you know what’s happening?“

 

We had just done a switch of drivers. Dean was only fourteen, though Dad sometimes let him drive the car anyway, ‘for practice‘.

He only shrugged and set the mirror.

At least, I was allowed to sit in the passenger’s seat now, for Dad wanted to stretch a little in the back bench. His steady breathing filled the inside of the car.

 

“You’re pretty good at driving by now.“

 

First of all, it was true, and secondly, I felt like I needed to say something nice to restore the peace between us.

 

“Thanks.“

 

“I’m sorry I hurt you.“

 

“Ah come on, you didn’t.“ He was smiling, didn't move his eyes off the road. “It wasn't even a scratch.“

 

A fox was running by the side of the road. He had the same color as the crepuscular light.

 

“And I’m sorry that the other kids were so mean to you. If I had known, I would’ve beaten them up for you.“

 

“Nah, I believe I can do that by myself now.“

 

I leaned my head against his shoulder. Getting along with Dean was always nicer than fighting with him. The leather jacket smelled like the car seats. Maybe my family smelled like leather after all?

For a few instants, in which I closed my eyes, he tolerated it, before he pushed me away.

 

“Sometimes you’re really weird, Sammy, but I like the cuddly version of you a thousand times better than the one that tries to kill me.“

 

“That’s convenient, ‘cause I like the not-asshole version of you better, too.“

 

He laughed.

 

“Listen. You didn't need to lie to those weird kids in your class.“ He changed the gear without moving his eyes off the road. “We don’t even need one of those houses with a front yard and neighbors looking over the hedges.“ He laughed. “We’re like snails, got our home right with us. No matter where we go.“

 

He tapped on the dashboard. I remained silent and looked out of the window.

 

“Did Dad even tell you where to drive?“

 

“Yeah, to Snover.“

 

“What’s Snover?“

 

“A place.“

 

“Haha, but what we gonna do there?“

 

We had already passed the town sign a couple of minutes ago. Whatever had lured Dad here, it wasn't the versatile cultural life. Actually, Snover only contained of a few shabby two-storied brick buildings that clustered along the main street, as if they needed to hold on to each other. There was a gas station and a small store with its windows nailed up with boards, and nothing else.

 

“Maybe a case after all?“

 

We both remained silent and let the houses pass us.

 

“Dean, you gotta stop, or you’ll go too far.“ I pointed outside. “Over there’s the town’s edge already.“

 

My brother actually listened to me for once and turned off the engine.

 

“There’s not even a school here.“

 

Because it was so quiet, my voice suddenly felt specially loud.

 

“Doesn’t matter. It’s summer break, right?“

 

We looked at each other. The sun had almost set and only a weak shimmer of orange mirrored in his big wide eyes.

 

“We should better wake Dad up.“

 

“Hm.“

 

“Not necessary, I’m already awake.“ Dad had sat up. In the dark of the car his large body blurred with the black of the leather seats. “We’re in the right place. Just go on until you see a gravel walk to the left, that’s where you turn.“

 

Dean did as he was told and started the car.

 

The way was so overgrown that I surely wouldn't have seen it, if I hadn't looked for it. The car jumped over the potholes and rose dust.

 

“Sure this is the way? I think it’s not…“

 

“All sure!“

 

Dad’s voice didn't allow any objection.

The path was so narrow now that branches and climbing plants scratched our car, as if they were trying to keep us from going. But then, when I was really sure that there was no way to go on, I saw it.

 

The once white facade was so overgrown, like the forest had tried to swallow it. Against the dark clouds of the evening’s sky the house seemed like a shadow.

 

“You wanted to live in a real house, Sammy.“

 

Dad was laughing, opened the car’s door and got out.

 

“We gonna stay here?“

 

“Not forever, Dean, just for a few weeks.“ He shook his head. “Just as long until all is dead and buried about the matter.“

 

“What matter?“

 

Dean didn’t get an answer. Instead Dad moved away from the car and walked to the front door that assembled a dark mouth in the evening’s light.

 

“The house is a little bit worn-down,“ I whispered. Through the front shield I could see Dad drawing a small object from under a flower pot and opening the door. “I don’t wanna go in there.“

 

“What did you expect, Sam? That Dad’ll buy us a mansion with a swimming pool?“

 

“No, but…“

 

“That’s what happens when you wish for something.“ Dean shrugged. “You never get what you want. All wishes you have eventually turn against you.“ He sighed and opened the door then. “And your angels seem to be crappy estate agents.“

 

He grabbed his bag and left me there alone.


	3. Chapter 3: The House with the Carpet of Grass and the Window to Heaven

**Chapter 3: The House with the Carpet of Grass and the Window to Heaven**

 

Inside the house there lived a tree. At least in the room in the backside that probably once used to be a living room. I regarded the sad remains of a sofa and next to it there was a crack in the wall through which you could see the rest of the forrest. I was standing next to Dean. The first stars appeared at the canopy and it was so dark I couldn't see more than his outlines. Standing inside and being outside at the same time was crazy, beautiful and at the same time somewhat creepy.

I couldn't help but think of Ronja Räubertochter and of the Mattisburg which was hit by lightning and split in two the day she was born.

I liked the book. Maybe it was for the monsters that were real in it as well. But maybe we were connected by the fact that we were both born ill-fated.

 

Dean used the light switch in the kitchen that looked like the family living here had just left and never come back. There were even dirty cups resting on the table, next to it an old newspaper. Seconds later, the light blazed up and tore me out of my thoughts.

 

“At least we got electricity.“

 

“Where are the people that used to live here?“

 

Dad, who had appeared as well, didn't give me any answer. Instead he turned on the tap. It blustered and rumbled in the house’s innards. The tap spit out crimson liquid into the sink that only became clearer after a while.

 

“You see that? It’s all working.“

 

Not even Dean knew what to say.

 

“Find yourselves a room. The two in the front are okay.“

 

Then he disappeared through another door and I wondered, if he had been here before or how he knew that.

 

 

**

There weren't two rooms in the front of the house.

When you took a turn from the hallway, there was only one room with a large bed in the middle and a door at the other end of it. When you went through that door, you came into a narrow room from where a ladder led to the attic. I climbed its steps upstairs. Throwing a glance into the dark room was enough to know that ghosts lived in it and that I definitely didn't want to meet them.

 

“I want the downstairs room!“

 

“Forget it!“

 

Dean had thrown a look upstairs as well and was now on his way back to the large bed and he was fast, faster than me.

 

“First there gets it.“

 

Besides, he was bigger, able to tackle me aside just like that.

 

“No, Dean! That’s not fair!“

 

I still tried to catch up with him, but he had much longer legs than me. When he threw himself onto the bed, the springs squeaked under his back.

 

“I never said I’d play along! That doesn't count!“

 

“Doesn’t matter anyway, I’m older so I decide.“

 

He grinned at me in that kind of way, I didn't know if he was serious or not. I sat down beside him.

 

“Please, Dean!“ Now I was begging. “I can’t sleep up there, it’s…“ I pondered. “It’s a girls room.“

 

I had figured that much with my short glance. The narrow bed under the pitch of the roof was covered with a pink plaid.

 

“Well, it fits then.“

 

He tousled my hair.

 

“Haha! Besides, it’s way too warm up there.“

 

“There sure are windows.“ He sighed and sat up. “You’re the one who wanted to live in a house so badly, Sammy, so quit whining.“

 

“Yeah, but I meant a real house with a veranda and real rooms and not… a ghost house.“

 

Once the words were out, Dean broke into roaring laughter.

 

“That’s not funny!“

 

I shoved him away and he spread his limps out upon the bed again.

 

“Yeah, it is. You really think that Dad of all people would drag us to a haunted house? I mean, apart from when he takes us with him to a ghost hunt?“

 

I shrugged. Maybe I simply couldn't judge the situation, because I had never been taken to a ghost hunt?

 

“There really are ghost up there,“ I tried dully.

 

“Then take rock salt with you. Earlier back in the car you wanted to be the great hunter.“

 

I thought about trying to hit him again, but he would still be stronger than me and his expression turned softer again.

 

“Okay, Sammy. It was a hard day for all of us, so I’ll make you an offer: you can sleep here with me tonight, okay?“ He pointed at the space next to him. “Tomorrow we’ll see, but it’s an exception. Cause actually you’re too old for that already.“

 

That I was too old already was his point for pretty much everything I wanted. Sleeping with him in one bed, keeping the lights on during the night… There were few things I wasn't too old for and for those I was too young then and was left out as well, like with hunting.

 

That night, when darkness had swallowed all the light, I felt not a bit too old. I was just tired and wanted to curl up and sleep somewhere where I wouldn't be killed or eaten, so I took his offer, grinding my teeth.

 

The blanket we slipped under smelled like dust and old, but at least Dean smelled like Dean.

 

“Maybe we could at least wash the blanket tomorrow. What d’you think?“ he asked.

 

“Hmm.“

 

I nuzzled up to him. It felt surprisingly good to lie next to him, safe, like in the past when I hadn't been too old for everything and we had always shared the bed. I occupied the right side so that I was lying between him and the wall. He was the safety barrier between me and the world.

 

“What d’you think happened to the people who used to live here?“

 

“I dunno, but they sure aren't ghosts.“

 

He stroke my arm, which was somewhat strange, after all he was the one to blame for the bruises and scratches. I tolerated it anyway and closed my eyes.

 

“But why did they just leave and didn't take any of their stuff with them?“

 

I felt him shrug beside me.

 

“Maybe they did take some stuff. Just not all of it.“

 

“But why?“

 

“Man, Sammy!“ He sighed in annoyance. “Is it really that important at night? Sometimes it just is like that, people need to leave very quickly. And now sleep already.“

 

I still found it strange, but I tried to be quiet, for his sake.

While my fingers played with the bracelet I had given to him for Christmas, I thought about that I actually should be tired as well and wasn’t.

 

“Dean?“

 

He had only very few freckles left on his nose. I touched them with my fingertips and missed those that weren't there anymore. They left because he was becoming more handsome now. At least, that’s what Ellen had said, while she hadn't known that I had been behind the door and listened. Ellen knew almost as much as Bobby, so it must be true. She had also said that he reminded her more and more of the other Dean. I didn't know who the other Dean was, but apparently he was dangerous, for you had to keep the girls away from him, also he loved fast cars and drank a lot.

When she had said it, I couldn't help but imagine to actually have two brothers, twins, and that they took turns to be my big brother. Of course that was silly. It would be very unrealistic for me to have two brothers and not realizing in all those years, and even more unrealistic that Dad would have named both of them Dean.

Once more, I shook the only Dean who was my brother and lying next to me.

 

“What else d’you want?“

 

Now he sounded really annoyed.

 

“Can we maybe do a circle of salt?“ I whispered. “A really small one?“

 

 

**

The next morning, I woke by the sun falling through the window right at my face.

At first I didn't even know where I was, but then, when I saw Dean lying next to me, I remembered everything: Snover, the house in the woods, the ghosts, and the tree in the living room.

 

Flakes of dust were dancing in the light and I heard Dad rumbling about in the kitchen.

I looked around in the room. It was a strange thing about sunlight. It made everything friendlier and at the same time somewhat shabbier. Now you could clearly see that the family hadn't left recently. Next to the closet the wallpaper undulated.

 

I tried to get out of the bed as quietly as possible without waking my brother, then I sneaked out of the room.

 

The sight of Dad with a pan in his hand was as unusual as… I don’t know, Santa Clause or something maybe? Something you’ve heard of, but never seen with your own eyes.

 

“Had a good night sleep, Sammy?“

 

I shrugged.

 

“I think so.“

 

The whole kitchen smelled like pancakes and I only now realized how hungry I was.

I sat down at the kitchen table that had been tidied up by someone - I guess by Dad - and kept on watching my father.

He turned the heavy pan, as if it was of air. Another swing and the pancake landed on the plate Dad pushed towards me, baked golden.

 

“Dean always burns them.“

 

Dad didn't say anything, only smiled and put new dough into the pan.

I looked around for maple syrup, but didn't find any, which made my good mood break a little. The pancakes were still quite tasty, besides, Dad had baked them.

 

“How did you find this house, anyway?“ I asked in between bites.

 

“Long story.“ He beckoned me to him and I thought he would want to tell me more. Something that was so secret that you could only say it very quietly. But instead he handed me the pan.

 

“Did you ever make pancakes before?“

 

I shook my head. Most of the time we didn't have a kitchen, much less any eggs or flour, and if we had, Dean never let me near a stove, because he thought that I could burn myself.

 

“Knife, fork, scissors, flames, have no place in children's games,“ he then said.

Which was actually pretty ironic, considering that he actually was a child himself. Just a child that was lucky enough to be favored by nature to always be four years older than me.

 

“Then it’s time you learn it.“

 

Although I held its handle with both my hands, the pan was damn heavy and I barely managed to lift it. I tried not to show my struggle and smiled bravely.

 

“Did you know the girl that used to live in my room?“

 

“Be careful they don’t burn.“ He shook the pan, making the fat disperse better. “What girl?“

 

“Like this?“

 

“Right, and when the dough is ready…“

Again he got a hold of the pan as well and made the pancake fly through the air. With a splash it landed back in the hot fat.

 

“I dunno.“ I shrugged. “Some girl that used to live here.“ Then I proudly regarded the pancake that had stayed in one piece. “Cool, we actually caught it without making it crumble.“

 

That was when Dean came in. He didn't appear like he usually did in the morning, like a hamster being woken up. He appeared like he was searching for something. As though there was something really important.

 

“There you are.“

 

“Of course I am. Where else would I be?“

 

I felt the remorse for wishing he wouldn't have woken up again. Dean was my brother and mostly we got along, but right then…

Dean always had Dad, when they went on a hunt together, and it had been nice to be alone with him for once.

 

“Am I supposed to stay in bed and wait for you to wake up?“

 

I braced my hands on my sides.

 

“You slept in Dean’s bed again?“

 

Dad didn't bother to hide the disappointment in his voice. I knew what was to come now.

‘Why can’t you be like your brother just for once?

In your age your brother already defeated his first vampire. Your brother is never scared of the dark. Your brother always does what he’s told.’

 

But Dad remained silent and only put the plate of pancakes on the table and it was almost worse than the grumbling.

 

“I suggested it.“ Dean sat down on one of the chairs and poked at the pancakes with a fork to shove them onto his plate. “It was pretty late already, so it was easier that way. We’ll take care of the room right away. Right, Sammy?“

 

I nodded and he was searching for the maple syrup just as desperately as I had done a couple of minutes ago. Now I couldn't help a smile. Because he had spoken up for me and because that little act showed that we still were somehow related in nature.


	4. Chapter 4: The Girl Who Liked Maths

Chapter 4: The Girl Who Liked Maths

 

“Well, off to the cheerful ghost hunt then.“

 

Now, in daylight, the attic wasn't half as creepy as during the night. Still, I was glad Dean went ahead. When we were upstairs, the floorboards creaked under every of his steps.

 

“Seriously, Sam, you should be more worried about statics than about intrusive ghost girls.“

 

“Maybe she’s in the closet?“

 

Even when it wasn't creepy anymore, the room was still not nice. Right under the roof the insulation was glowing silvery and there was the name of the construction firm Hendricks and Sons every other meter. In front of the only window by the front side of the house there was a small desk, but no light fell inside, for ivy was climbing and growing about the house.

 

Dean opened the closet and I got ready to throw the rock salt I had brought along, if necessary. But when he stepped aside the closet was, save for a few dresses hanging from the rail, empty.

 

“Well, if you need some clothes…“

 

“Haha.“

 

“Seriously, Sammy, there’s nothing to fear here, except for the amount of dust.“

 

He closed the door again.

 

“Then you sleep up here.“

 

He didn’t answer, only rolled his eyes.

 

I fell onto the small bed with the pink plaid and turned my head to the wall. I knew when I had lost a battle. But I also knew that I would never ever be able to sleep here.

 

“It’s a real good room.“

 

As if!

I felt the weight of his body beside me as he sat down with me.

 

“Every monster that’s after you first gotta get past me.“

 

I didn’t react.

 

“We can put the girl stuff away.“

 

Great!

Then nothing would be left, not even a blanket.

I really didn't want to cry again and be the spoiled child everyone saw in me, but just then it was all just terrible and no one could understand me.

 

“We can put some of the stuff into the closet and I help you cut the ivy outside the window.“ He touched my shoulder. “You’ll see, it won’t look that bad here anymore soon.“

 

Not that bad anymore! That was the exact problem. My whole life was made of not so bad.

 

“Besides, it’s not even forever. Just for until we can show back up on the radar.“

 

 

**

I had probably fallen asleep again after all, for when I opened my eyes again the light in the room was different and I was alone.

For a brief moment fear overcame me that they had left without me, but then I heard my family rumbling around downstairs and my heart stopped beating so fast.

 

“Be careful with the shelf,“ I heard Dad’s low voice, then a bang and then Dean’s cursing.

 

I turned around and put my feet to the wooden floor. It smelled musty up here, though at least it didn't seem like it had been raining inside. The bed was okay as well.

Only after a moment of thinking I noticed what it was that was different. Dean had kept his promise about the ivy. A large ray of light fell through the window like a spotlight and lighted up a rectangular spot of the floor.

 

That was the good thing about Dean. Whenever he promised something you could be a hundred percent sure that he would do it.

 

I walked up to the window and looked outside. The stems of the tendrils looked like a cow had eaten a hole into the wall of leaves and I wondered what Dean had used to clear the window. But then, it didn't matter.

 

As far as you could see there were only more trees and undergrowth. Some were shorter than the level of my window, so I could look at their leave roof, others were taller and blocked my view at the cloudless sky. The entire horizon was bordered by luscious green, a river glittered in the distance and even farer away you could make out a large brick building. A factory?

 

I opened the window to lean out more. After the heat of the attic that had gathered for years the fresh air streaming inside tasted deliciously fresh. I took a deep breath, spread my arms and with that knocked something off the desk. The alarm went through me like a bolt, until I saw that it were only notebooks.

Without thinking, I quickly picked them up again, almost as if I was still expecting someone to stand behind me all of a sudden and say, “What you’re doing in my room?“.

The maths book I was holding in my hands looked just like mine. I turned it over. There were even the same cheerful cartoon kids on it, only that they wore more colorful clothes and that this copy was more bleached out than the one I had been working with last school year.

 

An unexpected feeling of joy spread inside me, for I had had to give mine back. Sometimes, when I liked a book particularly, I just kept it when I had to switch schools again. I wasn't sorry, for the schools had enough books anyway and I didn’t, besides, most children were surely glad that I let their maths books disappear.

I also didn’t think that I would get caught. The first time I had imagined the school’s secretary calling the hotel to find out where we had moved to. But at some point I had learned that most people didn't care about something missing. Dad paid with credit cards that didn't really exist and nobody cared about that either.

 

So the problem wasn't the schools but rather the limited space in the Impala. Dad always said that each of us could only have one bag of stuff, because it would get too full otherwise. One bag. Not more and not less.

For each item I took along from somewhere I had to leave something else behind.

It was like I scattered myself over all the places we had been to. Sometimes I liked the thought of some piece of me staying behind. Of someone in twenty years or so finding the old plush monkey Mr. Bompers I had put behind the bed in the hotel in Iowa and wondering if there had once been a boy who had hidden it there. Then it didn't matter what else would happen, because there was someone who knew that I had existed and that I had hidden a plush monkey in Iowa.

 

Sometimes I liked to leave things of myself behind, like pieces of a puzzle. But sometimes I didn’t. So I always had to think hard about what to take with me and if it was really worth it. I really liked the book, besides, we had only worked to page forty. I still hadn't done the difficult exercises. I thought about packing it, but maybe I didn't have to? I had a couple of weeks left, at least that’s what Dad had said. So I still had time.

 

When I turned to the first page of the book I read in which school year it had last been handed out - 83/84 - and the name in the neat handwriting of a girl: Hester Evans.

 

It was crazy, the maths book being as old as I was, that, while I had been born and lain in my mother’s arms, Hester Evans must have done maths exercises.

If she was good at maths?

I randomly turned to another page. Though, her approach was right, even when she had miscalculated once.

 

Hester also had a geography notebook resting on her desk, The Aral Sea. I went through that as well. But then I decided that it wasn't of so much use anymore. Ten years ago the Aral Sea had been more than double the size of today. Apparently, ten years could be a quite long time. A time babies grew up, deserts spread, tress grew in living rooms, and girls disappeared.

 

There was a noise outside and when I looked out of the open window I saw Dean carrying some sort of dresser outside and throwing it onto a pile of other things, broken duckboards springing out of it like rips.

 

“Hello, Dean,“ I called and waved. “What you doing?“

 

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and looked up to me.

 

“What does it look like? I’m preparing the pyre for the burning of witches.“

 

“Really?“

 

He shook his head.

 

“Just come down here and make yourself useful for once in your life.“

 

I found it unfair that he talked to me like that. After all, he could have let me know, then I would have helped.

I threw a last glance at the desk, then I climbed the ladder back down. I left the window open.

 

“Well, finally Sleeping Beauty woke up.“

 

I poked my tongue out at Dean, who was waiting for me in the hallway.

 

I had to admit, Dad and Dean had really made a good job. Everything looked different. Emptier somehow, and the kitchen table stood by the other wall now. Where it had been before you could still make out its outlines, like the shadows of burned people in Hiroshima on that picture in my school book.

 

“We can finally go then.“

 

“Where are we going?“

 

Just while I was asking Dean hung two linen bags onto me.

 

“Grocery shopping. We barely have anything to eat here.“

 

“Afoot? But it was crazy far back to town and the shop was nailed shut.“

 

Again Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“There sure are things to buy at the gas station. After all, the people living here need to get their food from somewhere.“

 

“Yeah, they take their car to the next town that has a real supermarket.“

 

I passed on explaining him that I hadn't even seen any people in Snover who could go shopping anywhere.

 

“Sammy, you won’t die of moving for once and not stick your nose into any dusty books.“

 

“I wasn’t reading!“ Once I had said it I realized that he had seen me at the window when I had still been holding the book in my hands. “I cleaned up.“

 

“Yeah, and now come already, you slow coach.“

 

He had just turned the doorknob when Dad suddenly stood behind us. His hair was stuck to his head, as sweaty as he was. With an old kitchen cloth he dried his face.

 

“The water in the bathroom runs again.“ Dean nodded. “See you later then. We’ll be back in two hours at the latest.“

 

Dad shook his head.

 

“Sam will go alone. I need you here.“

 

My “but I don’t know the way!“ came at the same time as Dean’s “but he can’t carry everything by himself!“.

 

Dad didn't say anything. He only held his glance on my brother until Dean eventually leaned towards me and put his bag onto me as well.

 

“There are 30 Dollars in it. Take good care of the money. You have your knife with you?“

 

“But Dean!“

 

“Do you?“

 

“Yeah, but…“

 

“Good, the route is pretty easy. You need to walk the path back we took yesterday and as soon as you’re in the main street keep left. Look out for the traffic, okay? And only buy as much as you can carry.“

 

“Oh, yeah.“ I angrily stamped my foot. “I really need to get it together to not buy everything, after all thirty Dollars are sooo much money and they sure have the largest selection of all times in that shopping paradise.“

 

“If you find any, bring some pie.“

 

He wanted to hug me as a goodbye, but I felt far too betrayed to allow it, diving under and past his arms.

 

That was so typical!

Dean was allowed to stay with Dad.

They probably only pretended to go on cleaning up, and as soon as I was gone they sat down, ate something, laughed, and Dad shared all the secrets with him he would never trust me with.

He sure would tell Dean what we were running and hiding from in this awful ruin, if Dean didn't already know.

 

Angrily, I kicked away some stone and then another. Here on the gravel walk there were many of them.

Dean was always so lucky! So why didn't he look happy? Why was there something desperate about it in my memory of him looking after me from the doorway?


	5. Chapter 5: Strawberry Ice Cream, Lightning, and FBI Interrogations

Chapter 5: Strawberry Ice Cream, Lightning, and FBI Interrogations

 

I had found the way and it had been, just like Dean had said, not that hard, but it was far.

Although the sun had already gone beyond its zenith and I guessed it was about afternoon time, it was still unbearably hot. Lizards lying in the sun scurried into the undergrowth as soon as I walked by. In the distance, where the asphalt street met the horizon, the heat was flickering like a lake and there was no breeze at all.

 

This time a couple of people were sitting in front of their houses on the main street, even when surely every other one of them was nailed up with boards. Their looks bored into my back unpleasantly, so I greeted with a nod and went on as quickly as possible.

A weird town this was.

Why had Dad wanted to fly under the radar here in Snover of all places? Why were we truly here?

 

I was glad when from the distance I saw through the gas station’s dusty windows that Dean had been right about this part of his assumption, making out bottles of beer and cans of ravioli on the racks.

When I pushed open the door, there was the ring of the doorbell, and the conditioned air coming towards me felt so cold after the heat of summer, it was like entering a fridge.

 

“Good afternoon.“

 

The elder woman sitting behind the counter put down her newspaper.

 

“Hello, young man. How may I help you?“

 

I guessed she was about Bobby’s age. I wasn't all that sure, though. Guessing someone’s age had always been hard for me. When Dean was ten years old and I was six, I thought ten was pretty old and almost grown-up, but now, being ten myself, ten was somehow nothing and everyone kept treating you like a little child.

The woman was wearing a cowboy hat with bushy hair curling out from underneath it. She was black, but the skin of her callused palms was almost as bright as mine.

 

“Well, uh, I wanna buy some things.“ I looked around between the few racks.

 

“Well, good thing you’re in a store.“ She laughed and her teeth shone like in a toothpaste commercial. “Would be a shame if you wanted to buy something and were standing in a church.“

 

“Okay.“

 

Sometimes I thought grown-ups’ jokes were strange.

 

“What’s your name, boy?“

 

“Sam.“ My eyes were still glued to the rack. “Sam Winchester.“

 

How was my name important when I just wanted to buy a few groceries? She was still smiling at me.

 

“So, Sam Winchester, what d’you need? We even got some fresh fruits today.“

 

I wished I had made a list before or at least thought about what we needed, but then, I couldn't have known what they had here.

 

“Well, about all you need to live.“

 

Again she laughed and then handed me a red shopping basket.

 

“You guys passing through then?“

 

I acted as if sharply thinking about whether I should put the sandwich bread or rather the brown bread into my basket, but what I was actually pondering about was the best answer. If I said yes, I would be rid of her for now, but then again, it would be quite bad when I would stand here again in a few days because Dad sent me to get groceries again.

 

“No, we live here now.“

 

I grabbed for the peanut butter and the marshmallow cream and rated the prices in my head. Adding up digits had never been hard for me.

 

“Oh, that’s a surprise. Usually everyone who’s got the chance takes it to their heels and sees to get out of Snover.“ She shook her head. “So I’ll sure see you around more often. Where do you live then?“

 

Actually, I wasn't supposed to talk to civilians, but one, I had told her my real name already anyway, and two, she didn't look like she was possessed or a witch, although you could never really know that. So I mumbled a quick exorcism.

 

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…“

 

“What you saying, boy?“

 

Of course, nothing happened.

 

“I said: I live in the big white house. When you leave town and drive up left.“

 

If she didn't believe me, then at least she didn't show her confusion.

 

“In the Oswald house? But didn't that burn out?“

 

I shrugged while putting spaghetti and packet soup into the shopping basket. Neither did I know if our house had a name, nor if there were any other houses in the woods around this place abandoned for years and burnt down, and if she meant one of those.

 

“It’s not burnt down. It’s just a little old.“

 

She nodded.

 

“It used to be a noble pretty house, but then lightning struck.“ Again she shook her head. “That was at least ten years ago.“

 

“We’re currently fixing it.“

 

“You mean renovating.“

 

I nodded and put the basket onto the counter. There wasn't even a real cash register. She took each item individually and wrote it down on a notepad.

 

“How nice that the house gets a second chance. Most people don’t even appreciate the beauty of old houses anymore, though houses that old have seen so much. They tell stories.“ She was still writing. Her hair fell in front of her face. “It’s good that a young family moves out here. Tell your parents that there’s a Bingo night every Tuesday at the church hall. Maybe they’d like to come?“

 

She underlined her bill and I was really glad that I hadn't miscounted and that the banknote I reached out to her was enough.

 

“Yeah, I will, but they… they’re pretty busy.“

 

Again she nodded.

 

“You care for a popsicle as a provision, Sam? You got a pretty long way to go.“

 

I was just about to open the door and halted. Of course, I cared for a popsicle, but I wasn't sure if she wanted to give it to me for free or wanted me to buy one. Dad would be angry, if I spent our money for something as useless as popsicles. Besides, I had gotten less than a dollar for change.

 

“My granddaughter likes the red ones best.“

 

She opened the freezer next to the counter and pulled out a damp plastic wrapping.

 

“That’s on the house, cause you were my best customer today.“ She winked at me and I walked the few steps towards the counter to take the popsicle. “To be honest, you were the only one so far.“

 

Dad had also told us not to take anything from strangers, but I didn't care.

 

“Thanks, Mrs. …“

 

“Ah, you can call me Anne. Otherwise I’d feel so old.“

 

She was old, but of course I didn't tell her.

When I had unwrapped the popsicle and thrown the sticky plastic cap into the bin, my inner voice told me that it would be quite impolite to leave right away, so I was standing next to the counter insecurely and tried to melt the popsicle enough to be able to push it out of the wrapper. When it finally slipped upwards, I recalled what I wanted to ask.

 

“You said I live in the Oswald house. But wasn't the family that lived there before called Evans?“

 

“It was always called the Oswald house, even when I was still young.“ She laughed. “The Oswalds have always been an old married couple in my memories, they’ve been for at least thirty years, until they then passed away within a few weeks.“

 

“But what happened to the girl that used to live there?“

 

“A girl?“

 

I could tell by her eyes that she was hiding something from me. She looked past me.

 

I nodded.

 

“Her name’s Hester Evans.“

 

“Evans…“ She scratched at her chin. “Yeah, that was the family’s name that moved into the Oswald house after it’s been abandoned for a while.“

 

“And then? What happened to them? Where are they now?“

 

“You sure wanna be a policeman someday, right?“ Again she laughed and moved a strand of her hair under her hat. “Tess likes to play detective, too. She’ll sure be happy you live here now.“

 

If they had all died when lightning had struck?

 

Anna was still smiling. Maybe because she was thinking of Tess, but maybe for reasons I didn't understand.

 

“They moved away like so many others here. Since the factory was closed, the town slowly bleeds out.“ For a moment it looked like she wanted to say something else, but then she took a deep breath and turned oddly serious. “Ah, Sam, why you so interested in something that’s happened so long ago? My father used to say: “Nobody wants to read yesterday’s newspaper.“ What happened back then was so long ago and there are enough things here and now to care about.“

 

I didn’t know how to explain to her that it was important. That I had always been drawn to secrets and that I felt like I was the only person in the world that story was meant for. I was the only person who could help Hester, but Anne would never know that, so I just shrugged and licked my popsicle that had turned into a red mash by now.

 

“I gotta go now.“

 

“See you next time then, little FBI agent, and greets to your parents.“

 

I was just holding the doorknob.

 

“My mom is dead.“ I didn't know why I told her. “She burnt in our old house, that was some while ago. So she won’t be able to come to Bingo night.“

Maybe because I didn't want to keep lying?

Her mouth was shaped in the perfect O and I started walking before her “I’m so sorry“ could reach me.


	6. Chapter 6: A Hint of Grief and Night Wind

**Chapter 6: A Hint of Grief and Night Wind**

 

The way back felt even longer than the way to it and that although it wasn't all that hot anymore by then. The bright light of day had yielded to the blue hour and the cooler evening air enabled me to finally breathe properly again. Unluckily, the bags were horribly heavy and the jars of marshmallow cream kept bumping into my legs. I was glad when I finally saw our house, the Oswald house, appear from behind the thicket of green.

As if out of nowhere a shadow suddenly came off from behind the house wall.

 

“There you finally are!“

 

“Dean.“

 

I needed a moment to calm down my wildly beating heart.

 

“You crazy, startling me like that? I almost dropped everything!“ I put down the bags to the floor in the hallway. “Besides, what d’you want? The way’s just pretty long, especially when you gotta carry all alone.“

 

I gestured to the groceries I had picked up again. I knew that it hadn't been Dean’s decision to send me away alone, and still, that didn't change anything about the old anger searching its way through my veins again. Especially disappointed it howled as I saw the used dishes on the kitchen table.

 

“You had dinner without me?!“

 

“Dad was hungry and it was really late.“

 

“That’s not fair!“ Now I threw the bags to the floor after all, and the next moment I hoped that their content had remained undamaged. “You should have waited for me.“

 

“I saved some for you…“

 

He wanted to turn around and fetch the plate resting on the counter, but I pushed him aside.

 

“I don’t want your stupid food!“

 

That wasn't all true. Actually, I was quite hungry, after all I had only had the water ice, apart from the pancakes in the morning, but I had the irrational hope that it would hurt Dean when I boycotted his food and that he would feel sorry then that they had eaten without me.

 

“Sam!“

 

Before he could say anything else, I tore open the door of his room, then ran up to mine and threw myself onto the pink plaid of the bed for the second time of this stupid day.

 

After I had cried into my pillow for a while, fuming at neither Dad nor Dean having come up here to check on me, I took Hester’s and my maths book from the desk and began to solve some of the exercises.

 

“Cried enough? Sometimes I really think I actually got a little sister and not a little brother.“

 

I hadn’t even noticed that Dean had come up here. Outside it was already deep night and in front of my window millions of stars were glowing.

 

He came closer.

 

“The hair fits then.“ He tried to pet my head, but I drew aside. “What you doing there anyway?“

 

“What does it look like? They call it a book and I’m solving maths exercises.“

 

“It’s school vacations, you nerd.“

 

I almost told him that once again it was a stupid idea of him to insult me all the time while he actually wanted to make up with me, but who knew if he really wanted that?

 

“So?“ I said instead and pushed my chair back to be able to have a better look at him. “People who wanna make something out of their life and go to college always try to learn something new.“ I shut the book. “What you doing up here anyway, apart from insulting me?“

 

“Bring you your dinner.“ He put down the plate of pasta next to my maths book. “Well, only if you got over your little tantrum and want it now, otherwise I’ll eat it.“

 

For a moment I considered to remain stubborn, but technically I knew that I didn't want that anymore. I didn't want to go to bed angry and I wanted to fill the hole in my stomach and in my heart.

 

“Okay.“ I pulled the plate to me. “Thanks, Dean.“

 

“No problem.“ He smiled. “We’re even now anyway, Sam, after all you forgot my pie.“ Now I allowed him to briefly touch my arm. “I don’t understand why it mattered so much to you anyway. We didn't eat together before.“

 

He had sat down on my floor, looking up to me with his deep green eyes, and didn't seem like he wanted to leave so soon.

 

“Well…“ I poked about the pasta with the fork. “It doesn't matter…“

 

How was he supposed to understand it? If there was a center in this family, then it was him. He was the family. Of course, he never felt left out and unseen. He probably didn't even know what that was.

 

Luckily, he didn't dig any deeper, and I began shoveling the cold pasta into me.

 

“I know now why there’s a crack in the living room wall.“ I finally came up with something to change the topic. “A lightning bolt struck.“

 

Dean shook his head, before he settled it back on his knees.

 

“You’re real weird, Sam. Did anyone ever tell you that? Really, everything about you is weird, even your eye color. Sometimes they’re brown like right now and then they’re not.“

 

His face, though, didn't look like he actually thought I was weird. He was smiling after all, so it wasn't so bad that he had insulted me for the third time already.

 

“You care for a round of cards?“ He cast the card game from his pocket. So that’s why he stayed. “Someone needs to teach you how to decently play Poker.“

 

I nodded and he began riffling the cards.

 

 

**

“Where’s Dad anyway?“

 

I had already lost two rounds of Poker against Dean. Actually, I didn't really feel like playing a third, though kept playing half-heartedly for his sake.

 

“In his room.“ He sighed. “And reading some books and notes about werwolves in the area.“

 

I took another card from the stack.

 

“But he doesn't plan to go on a hunt, does he? He said we need to stay here for a couple of weeks.“

 

Dean shrugged and took a card as well.

 

“You know Dad, Sammy. He never lasted more than a few days without a job.“

 

“What he does is important, right?“ I tried to arrange the cards in my hand so that Dean couldn't see them. They weren't good. I would probably lose that round as well. “Hunting things, saving people… you can’t delay that, after all.“

 

“Yeah.“

 

“Hey, Dean?“ I looked at him. In the scanty light of the desk lamp his body threw a long shadow. “Why you wearing your shirt inside out?“

 

He looked down on himself, as if he needed a moment to understand what I even meant, and then to the ground.

 

“Stop being annoying, finally concentrate on the cards. Otherwise you won’t ever stand a chance against me.“

 

I knew he was hiding something from me, just like Anne from the store that afternoon. Grown-ups always thought I wouldn't notice it, because I was just a child, while I was young maybe, but not stupid. But I also knew that there was no sense in digging deeper, except that he would turn angry again then. When Dean didn't want to talk, he wouldn't talk. As simple as that.

 

“Trick!“

 

I lowered my cards.

 

Dean rolled his eyes.

 

“We’re playing Poker, Sam, not Doppelkopf.“

 

 

**

When it was night and I was lying in my bed alone, I had to think of Hester again and about how strange it was to be in her room.

Maybe exactly ten years ago she had lain awake in this bed, too, because the air right under the roof was so stuffily hot that it made your t-shirt stick to your body?

 

I turned for at least the twentieth time. What had she been thinking about in the hot summer nights? What had she felt? Had she been sad?

 

Every time I closed my eyes there were steps and muttering. Anne had said that an old house like this was somewhat alive. Maybe that was the reason why the woodwork groaned and every object told about Hester, as if she was still here and as if she was calling to me?

 

“Listen, Hester,“ I whispered as quietly as possible. So quiet that it was almost only in my thoughts. “I’m a pretty powerful hunter and you should be scared of me.“ I pulled the blanket up to the tip of my nose. “But we can make a deal: If you don’t do anything to me, I won’t do anything to you either.“

 

No answer.

 

Only silvery moonlight was falling through the window and made the shadows dance.

 

“It’ll only be a few weeks anyway, then I’m gone and you’ll have the house for yourself again. I promise.“

 

Now it was silent. Only a hint of grief and night wind touched my hair.

 

 

**

“You can’t do that!“

 

I crossed my arms and tried not to show my desperation.

 

“It’s only a two hours drive. We’ll be back tomorrow or at the latest the day after tomorrow.“

 

It wasn't that I wasn't used to do without Dad. Sometimes Dad was gone for weeks. I believe if I would add up all the days I had spent without him, they would probably be more than the days I had lived together with him.

 

At the latest when Dad had urged us to fill rounds with rock salt and clean the guns, I knew for sure that he would go on a hunt again. The problem wasn't Dad leaving. The problem was that he took Dean with him.

 

Usually, Dean had always stayed with me. Dean had cooked meals, brought me to school and tucked me in at night. I had never been without Dean and if I had had to be, then I had been at Bobby’s, but never all alone.

That was definitely another downside of ‘You’re already all grown up now.‘

How could I be grown up enough to stay here alone, but still too young to go on a hunt?“

 

“You can’t leave me here in this terrible ghost house.“

 

Dad laughed and took his gun off the kitchen table where I had just cleaned it.

 

The past few days I had started to get used to the house. I didn't notice the cracks in the wall anymore and began to see the things in the attic belonging to Hester as mine.

After I almost worked through the maths book, I had even started to read her notes on the Aral Sea.

Hester had never shown herself to me and she also hadn't attacked me, making me assume that our deal was valid and that she was okay with me borrowing her stuff.

 

Still, there was a huge difference between sharing a room with a ghost with a Dad there, who was a hunter, and a big brother, or being all alone and completely at their mercy.

 

Dean didn’t say anything. He only walked by Dad’s side and I tried to get in their way by running to the car.

 

“If you leave me alone here and I die, you’ll be sorry, cause then I’ll become a restless spirit and haunt you.“

 

“No problem, we’ll just burn your bones then.“

 

Dean opened the trunk and put his sawed-off shotgun inside.

 

“That won’t work!“ I glared at him angrily. “Earlier, when you didn't look, I put my hair on your sandwiches.“

 

Again Dad laughed and opened the driver’s door.

 

“Apart from the fact that that’s pretty gross, that’s also a bad plan, Sammy.“ With a bang he shut the trunk. “We eat the sandwiches after all and then your hair’s gonna get digested by our stomach acid. That’s as effective as burning.“

 

I shook my head.

 

“When you eat my hair I’ll become a part of you, and I’ll follow you everywhere, and the only chance to get rid of me will be killing yourself, cause then we’re both dead.“

 

“Sam… please… once in your life be reasonable.“

 

He tried to shove me aside, but I didn't let him, still holding onto the door handle of the Impala.

 

“Please, Dad!“ I tried to open the back door as well and get onto the back bunk. Once I had managed to get inside, Dean wouldn't be able to get me out so soon. Unfortunately, he sensed what I was on about and grabbed me no sooner that I had opened the door.

 

“Please, take me with you! I practiced. I can do it!“ I was still holding onto the door handle, while Dean was pulling at my legs. “Besides, I swear I’ll follow all the orders. I’d even wait in the car the entire time, but please take me with you!“

 

Dad turned his head and searched for Dean’s eyes. I knew that I was close to getting him there, and I couldn't help my heart beating faster with excitement and hope.

 

“Please, Dad!“

 

“Absolutely not.“ Dean had meanwhile managed to loosen my fingers from the car door. “You’re not even near ready. It’s too dangerous.“

 

In that moment I hated him more than I had ever hated anyone. Not even Marc.

 

“You’re the very most crackbrained and stupid brother in the whole world!“

 

I hated that he didn't want me there. I hated that Dad let him decide what happened to me. I hated that he was bigger than me, that he was able to keep hold of me without any problems and that he didn't seem to care one bit that I tried to bite and pinch him.

 

“You coming, Dean?“

 

Dad started the engine.

 

“We’ll hurry, okay?“ He let go of my arms. “And don’t forget the ring of salt. Don’t let anyone into the house.“

 

Then he jumped into the car and shut the door.

 

“I hate you!“

 

I tried to keep up with the Impala, but the car was faster.

 

“I hope the werewolf’s gonna bite you to death!“

 

I didn’t know if Dean could even hear me anymore, after all the car was already several meters ahead, then it turned and disappeared. Only the chirp of birds and silence was left.

 

_“They can’t do this!“_ I told myself inwardly over and over again. _“They sure gonna come back in a minute.“_

 

Before my inner eyes I already saw the car coming back.

Saw Dean getting out and say, “Come on then, you whiny baby, hop in“.

But there was no car and there was no Dean, and then I realized that I was really alone and gave free rein to my tears.


	7. Chapter 7: Alone with Kurt Cobain

 

**Chapter 7: Alone with Kurt Cobain**

 

At some point, and it probably was already several hours later, I realized that it didn't matter whether or not I remained lying in the dusty driveway in front of the house. Nobody noticed. So I could stay here, until Dad and Dean returned, or I could do something else.

The result would be the same.

 

My head still ached from crying so much and I was terribly thirsty, so I went inside, poured myself a glass of water, and then, after I had drunk it, another one.

Nobody was there who could say I was greedy, selfish, or ill-bred. I huffed a laugh and it echoed in the empty house. I opened the fridge and ate the cold cuts without any bread. After that, I spooned out the chocolate cream that I had bought only a few days ago as well.

 

Good, they had that stupid werewolf hunt and I was alone. But if they thought that I would feel bad about it, they were totally off base. I didn't care a bit about them! Yes, they could jump in a lake for all I cared.

 

After a couple of spoons the chocolate made my mouth all sticky and I closed the jar again. I went to Dean’s room and discovered his Discman on the bed.

He had probably forgotten it here, although he usually never left it out of sight and surely wanted it with him.

That’s what he got from leaving me alone here.

 

I put on the earphones and jumped onto his bed, while Kurt Cobain was screaming out my anger.

 

_Come as you are, as you were, as I want you to be_

_As a friend, as a friend, as an old enemy…_

 

Dean only sang along to songs when he thought he was alone. But he rarely ever was. I was always there, always, even when he thought I was asleep or studying for school.

 

It was strange when he sang, because he was the only one who could hear the melody through his earphones and I only heard his voice that was so rough and sounded angry somehow.

I didn’t like it when he sang, especially not Nirvana. He didn't sound like my brother then.

 

_And I swear that I don’t have a gun_

_No, I don’t have a gun._

 

I liked this part of the song the least, because there he always squinted his eyes and reached out his fingers like he really had a gun and no problems using it. I mean, he actually had a gun, for real, but I had never seen him using it.

If he had these all determined wild eyes during a hunt as well?

If he stormed through doors with his I-swear-I-don’t-have-a-gun expression, drawing his gun, and then put a silver bullet into the werewolf’s head?

I felt the blood splatter like raindrops and a tiny little part of me was glad, after all, that I wasn't with them, while the biggest part of my mind was still sulking.

 

After two songs I grew tired of it and decided to hide the Discman under the bed. Should Dean search his soul out when he came back.

 

Upstairs in Hester’s and my room it was even more lonely, because I couldn't help but imagine that Dad and Dean were still downstairs. Every time I wondered why they were so quiet, I remembered that they had left me here alone.

Another problem was that I didn't want to be alone with Hester’s spirit and here in her room her presence was the strongest.

I took her neon-colored bouncy ball I had discovered in one of the drawers a few days ago and went back to the living room.

 

The living room was insofar an interesting place as there you were both inside and outside. I was lying in the grass that pierced through the wavy floor boards, regarding the rising sun through the crack in the wall.

 

I threw the bouncy ball against the intact part of the wall between the windows and tried to catch it again. With that I was humming a rhyme that I didn't know where I knew it from. I had probably overheard it from the girls on the school yards of the country, who celebrated their skip rope and clapping games like a ritual, but maybe I had always known it.

 

“Seven crows a sitting on the stake. One for your worries, two for money you make.“

 

The bouncy ball landed back in my hand almost automatically without me having to do much for it.

 

“Three for the wish coming true, four for the luck standing by the side of you, five for the tears and for your torment, six for the secret no one ever get.“

 

Actually there should be a ‘will‘ or a ’would‘ in that last one. I had always wondered about that. Whatever! I made the bouncy ball fly once more.

 

“Do remember, of the seventh beware, he is the devil, comes for you like a nightmare.“

 

Yes, it had been the girls. I remembered it all clearly now how they had tried to startle each other after the last verse and then just drew away giggling.

 

I let the bouncy ball sink to the floor. There was no one to startle me. Only the setting darkness. I rubbed my arms. Had it turned colder? Or did I only imagine that?

 

 

**

That night I didn't dare to go back to my room. The house was too dark and the night too bright.

The full moon painted wild shadows against the walls and when, if not in nights like this, did the wild hunt gallop across the land? And when, if not in nights like this, did restless spirits come out from their ambush they had been hiding in?

 

I curled up in Dean’s bed and while I pressed my head into his pillow and tried to imagine that he was with me, my head was playing through all kinds of scenarios of what awful things could have happened.

I didn’t even think of me. I thought of Dean and Dad and over and over again of the question about where they were and if they were all right.

What was I supposed to do, if Dad and Dean didn't come back?

I even ate almost all of the cold cut already. I would starve to death, if the spirits wouldn't kill me before that, and without Dean and Dad there was no one who would notice, because no one would even miss me.

 

That night I didn't pray for a real house or for us to stay somewhere for once. That night I prayed for my family soon coming back to me and that they wouldn't ever leave me by myself again.

 

It didn't help, though.

 

I was lying awake for so long that it felt like a whole eternity.

At some point I wasn't even all sure anymore if I had put a line of salt at every window or if I only believed so. At the same time I was too frightened to check on it, so I clenched to the shotgun Dad had left here and waited for the light of the new day.

 

Sometime I must have fallen asleep anyway, for when I woke up bright sunlight fell into the room and birds were chirruping loudly from the tree in the garden. Although it was still early in the morning, it was already quite warm and it would turn even hotter.

 

I went to the kitchen and ate the last of the remaining cold cut, then I didn't know what to do with myself anymore, took Dean’s card game and imagined Hester playing with me and showing me how to play Poker.

The bad thing about ghosts was that they never haunted you when you needed them. I made two stacks and played against myself. That was even more boring, so I imagined playing against Dean. I imagined Dean losing this time. I imagined him apologizing for not wanting me with them, and me, I would forgive him for once, but only if he promised that he would never leave me alone again.

Later, I went back to his room and took his Discman from under the bed. Listened to Nirvana again, thought of him, missed him terribly, and then put his Discman back to the nightstand so he would find it when he came back home.

 

I read a book about the perfect barbecue that I had found in the kitchen. You could tell if a steak was well-done when the meat felt like the flap of skin at your chin.

I pitched my chin and imagined doing a big barbecue and everyone we knew - Bobby, William, Ellen, and even Joe, who was a little annoying sometimes - would come.

 

Later, I went upstairs to my room, after all. It wasn't so dangerous during the day.

When my eyes found my bag, rather by coincidence, I had the idea of leaving something behind. I opened the zipper and the first thing I found was the miserable rest of Colonel Willis’ unit. Almost all of the brave plastic soldiers had given their life by now. One of them was stuck in the Impala’s ashtray, I remembered that, but not the other ones’ fates. Only two of them were left and they desperately tried to hide in between my underwear.

I took one of them and thought about a good hideout for it. One of the floor boards right by the wall was a little loose. I lifted it and shoved the plastic soldier underneath. After it had disappeared in the dark, I felt sorry. Somehow, I would have liked to play with it and apart from that, it was all alone now. I decided to at least put the other soldier there as well. Only one of them was of no use for me anyway.

When it also disappeared underground, I heard a metallic thump. I put my head to the floor, but couldn't hear it again.

I tried to lift the floor board with the tips of my fingers, but I only managed when I shoved the barbecue book in between. I mentally steeled myself for the sight of bones, dead rats, or something else disgusting, but there were only fluffs of dust, cobwebs, and a small metal can that I lifted into the light, blowing the dust off of it.

 

I was so excited. Never in my life had I found a treasure. When I lifted the lid, blood was rushing in my ears.

 

_This is the treasure of Hester Evans._

 

I recognized her girl handwriting right away. It was the same as the one labeling her books.

 

_The one taking it away shall be cursed. Later, when everything’s all right again, I will come back and fetch it._

 

After I had put aside the piece of paper that had prints of neon-colored palm trees and sunglasses on it, my euphoria decreased a little.

Hester’s treasure contained three hair clips, a blue marble that admittedly was sparkling quite prettily in the sun, a bracelet with a horse pendant, a little bottle of nail polish that had dried already, though, a self-made boat, a notebook that I browsed through for only a moment, and a Mickey Mouse comic book. When I lifted it I discovered a photo. It had been cut out of a yearbook and showed a girl with long, blonde hair and a withdrawn glance.

 

Maybe she didn't like being photographed?

I, at least, always hated it a lot.

How many yearbooks of people, who didn't even know my name, might have a picture of me in them? If they opened them at some time in many years and think, “Who was that odd boy in my class? I can’t even remember him“?

 

If there was someone who remembered Hester?

 

I put the items back into the metal can. To my pleasure, a five Dollar bill fell out of the notebook.

 

When I looked at my wristwatch, I found that it was three in the afternoon now and I was hungry again. I ran to the kitchen, but I didn't find anything in the fridge but a bottle of Dad’s liquor, so I ate the bread I hadn't eaten before that tasted rather dry now.

 

When it was four o’clock, I was still hungry and inwardly apologized to Hester for the need to borrow her money. If I hurried, I would make it to Anna’s gas station. Then again, Hester was either dead and didn't need the money anymore anyway, or she was twenty by now and surely had enough money and had already forgotten about her treasure.

 

 

 

  


 


	8. 8. Tess and the Ghost Drinking Children’s Blood

 

**8\. Tess and the Ghost Drinking Children’s Blood**

 

This time the way into the town felt much less far. Maybe it was because I already knew it and could remain in my thoughts?

 

“Sam Winchester, what a surprise,“ Anna greeted me.

 

This time she wasn't sitting on her spot behind the counter, but came out from the back room from where laughing and voices were still emerging.

 

“Am I interrupting?“

 

She waved her hand dismissively.

 

“If I didn’t want anyone to come inside, I would’ve locked the door, but I can’t afford that lately. So, how may I help you?“

 

Before I could say anything, a girl with thick brown braids that lay on her head like coconuts came through the door.

 

“Grandma, where’s the kitchen knife?“ Then her eyes fell on me.

 

“This is Sam Winchester, the one I told you about,“ Anna introduced me. “He lives in the old Oswald House.“ Then she turned to me. “And that’s my granddaughter Theresa.“

“Tess is fine,“ she said. “No one calls me Theresa.“

 

I reached out my hand to her and waited for her to take it, but she didn’t. So I lowered mine again.

 

“How can someone like you live in the Oswald House?“ She had started to walk around me, eyeballing me from every side. “Firstly, it’s a ruin, and secondly, it’s haunted.“

 

I noticed the sharp glance her grandmother threw her. But she apparently didn’t. So she went on.

 

“We’re renovating the house.“

 

“That barely helps against the ghosts, does it?“

 

She was right about that.

 

“We set some lines of salt.“

 

“Salt? Salt doesn't help against ghosts.“

 

“Yeah, it does!“

 

“No!“

 

“Yeah, it does!“

 

That moment I decided that I didn't like her.

 

“Did you even ever see a real ghost or how do you know that?“

 

She pursed her lips, as if she had to consider what to say and what not. With that she put her arms akimbo.

 

“I did.“

 

“And where?“ I gave back, not less hawkish.

 

“In your house.“

 

“Goddammit, Theresa!“ Anna smacked her hands together. “How often did I tell you it’s dangerous to go into abandoned houses and besides also strongly illegal?“

 

I had completely forgotten that Anna was still with us. Tess seemingly, too, for she flinched guiltily.

 

“Not cause of the alleged ghost stories and your other chimeras, but cause of the open power lines and the danger of collapse.“ She took a deep breath. “Ruins are no playground for kids, Theresa! Imagine something would’ve happened and you were all alone out there, miles away from the next house.“

 

“But I wasn't alone.“ Tess bit her lips. “Tim was with me.“

 

Her grandmother shook her head.

 

“How good that I don’t need to worry about his bad influence anymore.“

 

“Is he dead?“

 

I only realized that I had said the question crossing my mind out loud, as both their heads turned to me.

 

“You crazy?“ Tess said, while Anna said, “God forbid!“ at the same time and put her hands over her head again.

 

“He moved away.“ Now Tess’ voice sounded almost dull. “Like everyone moves away from Snover. All but us.“

 

The silence was so penetrating that you could hear the tick of the wall clock.

 

“We were just having some coffee. You care for a piece of cake?“ Anna eventually asked, while Tess was still remaining silent with pressed lips.

 

 

**

Tess’ grandpa was nice, even when he kept asking me about my family and why we hadn't moved into the town center. Besides, he knew quite a lot of mechanics that could help us with the renovations.

So I was really glad when we could finally stand up from the table and also when Tess didn't seem to be angry with me anymore, but pulled me by my hand out to the garden.

 

“Now we’re undisturbed, you can finally tell me.“

 

The grass was almost yellow, as if no one had watered it during the past couple of weeks, and hard as straw.

 

“Tell you what?“

 

She rolled her eyes and sank down on the old Hollywood swing.

 

“Well, if you saw him.“ She paused. “The man with the red eyes!“

 

“What?!“

 

“Can you say other words than what, too?“

 

Now it was me who crossed his arms.

 

“Of course I can, but there is no man with red eyes, neither in that house, now elsewhere. That’s totally silly.“

 

Dad’s journey said that ghosts always looked like they had when they were alive. Only crossroads demons had red eyes. When they died they didn't turn into ghosts, did they? But even if, what would they want in our house? It wasn't even near a crossroad.

I kept thinking. And what if she didn't mean red-eyed? What if the man really had yellow eyes?

An excitement went through me that didn't even decrease by making a few steps around her now.

 

“It’s not silly!“ She turned her back to me demonstratively. “The Ripper lived over a hundred of years ago and was a kids murderer who sold his soul to the devil. He got his supernatural power from kidnapping children and drinking their blood.“ Her eyes sparkled by excitement. “But one day the town people killed him and buried him in the basement of the Oswald House, where he still is, waiting for his return and revenge.“

 

“I slept for twelve nights in that house now. Don’t you think that I would’ve met the ghost by now? If he was real?“

 

I told myself that it couldn't be true. Dad and Dean would have kicked such a ghost in the ass.

 

She moved and the Hollywood swing swung back and forth. Her feet barely touched the ground.

 

“You don’t believe me?“ Her face had something firm. “That’s fine. But how d’you explain that a girl who used to live in the Oswald House vanished exactly ten years ago? And just in that night the lightning bolt struck as well.“ She made a gesture with her hands, indicating an explosion. “They never saw her again and didn't even find her bones. Well, and now you live in the house.“ She glared at me. “You’re nice and young and if I were you, I’d be worried.“

 

“I’m not nice!“ What did that girl know about me anyway? Nothing! “And I’m not afraid of ghosts either.“ I pushed my chin out. “Besides, I know when someone’s lying to me and our house doesn't even have a basement.“ I tried to give my voice a calm sound, which wasn't all that easy with all the troubled feelings. “No Ripper could’ve been trapped there.“

 

 

**

“You angry now?“

 

It seemed to be her basic condition. But why? I hadn't even done anything to her. She had started to be nasty with me. I had, at most, defended myself.

Tess hadn’t said anything to me for a long while now, so I considered whether it wouldn't be better to get up and go.

 

“Yeah, I’m angry.“ Her voice sounded oddly soft and she looked sad the way she pursed her lips. “But not with you.“ She swallowed. “I’m angry with Tim. That douchebag mucked me with that horror story and he moved away.“

 

I sat down with her on the Hollywood swing.

 

“He was my friend and still, he just moved away.“

 

I didn’t know what to say to comfort her, so I didn't and kept silent with her.

 

“You haven't been in the house, have you?“ I eventually whispered.

 

She shook her head and her braids swung.

 

“No, just at the back wall. Where everything’s black and you can look into the living room.“ I nodded. “It was a test of courage, but I didn't dare go any further.“ She shrugged. “So I waited a couple of minutes, before I went back to Tim then and acted like I’ve been inside.“

 

“So you just made the whole story up?“

 

She shook her head eagerly.

 

“No, it’s a story that goes around here. You know, by a bonfire when your out camping or so.“

 

Yes, I knew those kind of stories. Dean especially liked to tell them when we were alone somewhere. The worst was the one with the murderer who taps on the roofs of cars with chopped off heads when we ourselves had to wait in a car. Modern legends. There was nothing true about them, right?

But how did she know of Hester then? Or was it a coincident?

 

“There really was a girl who used to live in our house. Her name’s Hester.“ I shifted about uneasily. “Maybe you know what happened to her?“

 

Tess’ shoulders rose.

 

“You mean apart from the ‘it was a cloudless night, when a thunder storm came out of nowhere, hit the house, and she vanished‘ legend?“

 

“Yeah.“

 

My fingers played with the flowery fabric of the cushion.

 

“Sadly no.“

 

“I’ll find out.“ I didn't even know why I said that to her. “I’ll do some research and I’ll figure out her secret.“

 

She pondered.

 

“I’ll help you. After all, we’re friends now.“

 

She seemed very excited and very nervous. I tried to act like I was, too. I knew that there probably wouldn't be another meet-up. We couldn't be friends. I didn't have friends and I would never be able to have any. If she walked to the Oswald House someday to visit me, I would already be somewhere in Idaho maybe or Kansas and the house would be nothing more than a ruin again, standing in the woods, forgotten. I would never have a normal life, never, and still, I smiled.

 

 

**

It had been difficult to convince Anna’s husband of not giving me a ride home.

 

“But it’s so late already. Your father is probably all worried.“

 

“No, it’s all right. He… he’s busy and stressed out when visitors come by.“ I pondered. “Besides, I like walking.“

 

It was a lie.

Although I knew that the horror story couldn't be true, everything inside me flinched by the mere thought of sitting in the damned house alone for yet another night. But tonight Dad and Dean should come back. They had promised.

 

“One could almost think you live there by yourself.“

 

Anna laughed and handed me my bag with the groceries. I knew that she had packed more than you could get for five Dollars. I could tell by her look. I had seen that so often already. Pity.

 

I joined her laughing, particularly loud. Then I said goodbye and made my way home.

 

 

**

There was no Impala outside the house and even when I knew that I would get in huge trouble for disappearing just like that, in that moment I would have preferred the telling-off over the loneliness.

When I stood by the door, I considered whether or not going inside, but where else would I go? Back to Anna and Tess?

 

I stepped over the line of salt and scurried down the hallway to Dean’s room. For in the beginning darkness I couldn't rule out that there maybe really was a red-eyed ghost of a mass murderer and I could be his next victim, I threw myself onto Dean’s bed without undressing and pulled the sheets over my head.

 

It was bad to be abandoned by your family during the day, but by night it was hell.

 

Again I fell asleep eventually, only that this time I wasn't woken by bright sunlight but by the deep humming of an engine.

I knew that sound! I would recognize it everywhere. The Impala!

 

I opened my eyes and discovered that it was still dark. Outside the window the headlights pierced holes into the night.

I suppressed my first impulse to run to the door and throw myself into the arms of Dad and Dean, tell them how much I had missed them and how happy I was that they had come back.

They had abandoned me! They deserved being punished with disregard. They shouldn't learn how much I needed them.

 

I cracked open the room’s door and peered into the kitchen.

What happened then, I would never forget that. The front door opened so far that it nearly fell out of its hinges, the light flamed up to brightly that for a moment I didn't see anything but the stars dancing in front of my eyes.

When I could make out shapes again, there were red spots in my field of vision. I blinked, but they didn't go away. That on Dad’s shirt, those weren't red spots, it was blood. His eyes were wild and gaping. He reminded me of a mad pirate captain taunting the waves from the rim of his ship while lightning bolts were wincing across the sky and the pole already broke.

 

“Dad?“ I knew right away that the blood on his body wasn't his, even without someone explaining it to me. “What happened?“

 

“Hurry! Boil some water, Sam!“

 

Then he ran back to the car.

 

Naked panic overwhelmed me.

 

“Where’s Dean? Where’s my brother?“

 


	9. Chapter 9: Splinters and Blood

**Chapter 9: Splinters and Blood**

 

“Sam!“

 

Dad shook me at my shoulders and moved his chin forward. It was a gesture that could mean anything. Probably that I was supposed to go aside, for he was on his way to the door again.

 

“Come on now! Boil some water!“

 

Then he was gone and I ran to the sink as if in trance.

My fingers were shaking and I turned on the faucet so wide that most of the water splashed on my trousers instead of flowing into the pot.

I always had troubles turning on the stove. I never knew when the gas was on and when not, but this time my fingers were shaking so hard that I needed several tries to even ignite a match.

 

_“And what will you do, if you’ve used them all, like in the fairytale?“_

 

I did my best to lock that thought away, but it was swift and powerful and always found a way back to me.

I could smell the gas. It took another four tries until I managed to ignite it. Blue flames danced in a circle.

I put the pot on the stove just when the door opened again.

 

Dad was carrying Dean like you carry an old bag, like he was half hanging over his shoulder.

I could only tell that it was my brother by his clothes. He loved that black leather jacket Dad had given to him and he was especially proud of the jeans, because he had them from a legit jeans store. One where the sizes were strange numbers of which I didn't know what they meant and what pants would fit. Not that it mattered, for I only wore stuff Dean had grown out of.

When he had bought those jeans I had tried to calculate how long it would take until they would be too small for him and I would inherit them. Now they were ripped and red. All of him was ripped and red.

 

Dad shoved off the things that had been on the table. Books soared to the ground, as well as a coffee mug. It didn't shatter, but rolled under the kitchen bench, then he put Dean down.

It was like in an odd dream where nothing was right. As if Dad was a predator that put his slain prey on the table for dinner.

 

Bobby was a hunter, a real one that shot animals. It was probably two years ago when he had slain a deer and brought it with him. I liked Bobby, really, but the dead brown eyes of the animal had looked at me so accusingly that I had to turn away. It had been one of the few evenings of my life where there had been enough food and I had still gone to bed hungry.

 

“Dean?“

 

I made a step towards my brother and had to sidestep Dad, who ran out of the room. Little later I heard his angry voice. At first I though he was talking to himself or yell in horror because it was all so awful. I would have liked to do that now as well, but then realized that he must talk to someone on the phone. I hadn't even known that there was a telephone here.

 

“Dean?“ I shook his shoulders, trying to grab a spot that looked as unbloody as possible. “Please, say something!“

 

He opened his eyes shakily.

 

“I’m fine.“

 

His speech was so slurry, as if I had woken him in the middle of the night and he didn't know where he was.

 

In the bedroom Dad just yelled, “What I wanna know?! If there’s anything I can do, I mean apart from putting a silver bullet in my son’s head!“

 

The pot wheezed and spat puddles of water. Hot steam billowed towards the ceiling. I didn't take any step away from Dean. I wasn't even able to. My legs were of stone.

 

“It all went a little sideways,“ Dean whispered.

 

The blood that had run onto the table surrounded him like a halo. I didn't know what to say or what to do.

 

“Yeah, it kinda did.“

 

“I need to hear again what happened!“ Dad was back. He grabbed Dean, forced him into an upright position, making Dean groan out. “He didn't bite you, right?“

 

“Yeah… claws. It was only claws.“

 

“He tried to open your chest with his claws and you fended him off with your arm. That’s how it was, right?“

 

Again my brother nodded.

 

“Yeah, and then you shot him.“

 

He threw me a brief ‘it’s all right‘ look, but it cost him too much strength, so he closed his eyes again. I had still seen the fear in them. Fear and endless tiredness.

 

Dad didn't say anything. He only stared at Dean. Suddenly he drew a knife. I held my breath and the only thought that fit in my mind right then was that you couldn't kill werwolves with a normal knife. Silver cut through fabric and laid Dean’s torso bare.

 

“Get the water already, Sam!“

 

I obeyed, ran to the stove and carried the pot to the table. I was shaking so hard that little puddles were scattered on the kitchen floor.

 

“Not like that!“ he snarled at me. “I need a bowl and a clean cloth.“

 

While I was searching for both, I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes that blurred my sight. When I turned back around, Dad was holding the bottle of whiskey that had been in the kitchen cupboard. As long as I could remember there had always been a bottle of whiskey. Sometimes it stood in a cupboard and sometimes somewhere else. Dean and I had tried it once when Dad hadn't been there. It had tasted like fire and I had to spit it out right away and cough. Dean had only laughed and then taken a deep sip, as if it was water.

 

_“You’re just not a man, Sammy.“_

 

Now Dad took a sip before he went back to Dean and looked at him with unfathomably dark eyes.

For a moment everything was frozen and still, then he poured some of the content of the bottle onto the wound and Dean screamed. The next instant, Dean had the bottle at his mouth.

 

“Go, drink!“ It was the twisted memory of someone feeding a baby, only that Dean was way too big and lashed about wildly with his arms. “You’ll need it.“

 

Dad was stronger than Dean and he kept pushing him back onto the table.

 

“Come on, Sam. There’s a sewing kit in the bag. You do remember how we practiced?“

 

I nodded. Just because Dad expected it.

Theoretically I did remember him showing me how to sew on a piece of meat. Later we had roasted the meat and he had stroked my head and said, “Well done.“ It was one of my favorite memories.

My hand was shaking so badly that I didn't manage to pull the thread through the needle.

 

“Hurry up!“

 

“I do.“

 

The needle slipped through my sweat-soaked fingers and disappeared somewhere on the floor.

 

“Are you stupid!?“ Dad was really yelling now. “I can’t hold him down and sew him at the same time. I can’t always do everything alone! I need to be able to count on you!“

 

I crawled under the table, searched for the needle in the twilight and tried not to cry, to no avail.

 

“Just take a new one!“

 

I stood back up and hit my head at the table.

Whatever!

The new needle brought luck.

This time I instantly managed to pull the thread through the loop. I leaned over Dean.

 

Now that the whiskey had washed away most of the blood, you could clearly see that it had run out of a single wound. On the one hand that was good, because it meant that he wasn't injured everywhere, but on the other hand it was bad, because the rip reached from his upper arm to his shoulder and it was terribly deep. I could see sinews and cartilage in between all the red and couldn't help but gag.

 

“Start already!“

 

I really wanted to, but my brother wasn't a piece of meat and no matter how hard I tried not to think about it, it just didn't work. My brother was my brother.

 

Dad looked like he would rather shove me aside and take the needle, but he had to hold Dean down, even when that one had turned all calm in his grip.

 

“Sam?“ I hadn’t expected Dean to be still conscious. Apparently, Dad neither. He was all still suddenly. “You can do it.“

 

He didn’t scream. Not a single time. Not by a single stitch. He was just gone. Lost somewhere in the realm behind his eyes he had squinted shut tightly. Silent tears ran down his cheeks.

 

Exhausted, I lowered the needle and felt like I had been attacked, as if I hadn't slept for many nights.

 

“You all right, Sam?“

 

It was strange that Dean of all people asked that, since he was the one whose blood had left dark taints on the wooden table and was stuck to my hands. I quickly wiped them on my trousers. But it didn't help against the feeling.

It was also strange that he was stroking Dad’s arm to comfort him and Dad was covering his eyes with his hand then.

 

“Shit!“

 

Shit that he was crying? Shit that the hunt had gone so wrong and we had almost lost Dean? Shit that I had been so useless? Once again?

 

It was such a weird feeling to watch them like this. Like a family picture you weren't in.

 

“Sammy.“

 

Very softly, he reached out his healthy arm to me and I took the invitation thankfully and buried my face in his shoulder.

 

“Don’t soak it with tears, alright?“

 

His hand was still resting in my hair.

 

“You’re such an idiot, Dean.“

 


	10. Chapter 10: Bad Things

Chapter 10: Bad Things

 

The last thing I wanted that night was a fight with Dad. So I pretended to go to my room.

He didn’t pay so much attention to me anyway and I guessed it was because of what had happened to Dean. I couldn't remember him ever looking so bad.

 

Dean always said that long ago, after Mom’s death, it had been really bad and Dad had cried and drunken a lot, but I had been a baby back then and babies can’t remember, no matter how hard I tried.

 

Now Dad only drank sometimes and he never really cried. Dad was always quite strong and the best hunter in the world. Whenever he said something, it was true, so it was better to listen to him.

 

He helped Dean over to his bed and then, after he had disappeared in his room, I came back downstairs and sneaked to Dean’s bed in the dark. Actually, I only wanted to see if he was really all right, but then I crawled to him anyway.

 

I deliberately took the other side, although it was the wrong one, for I didn't want to hurt his injured shoulder when I cuddled up to him.

He didn’t react to me and I was sure that he was asleep, so I closed my eyes as well.

 

“I was wondering when you’d come.“

 

His voice sounded like it was under water.

 

“I’m sorry about the werewolf. I didn't want him to bite you.“

 

“Even when I said that to you when you left.“

 

Again I felt those stupid tears rise, for so often I did things that were so stupid and I felt sorry for them later. It was good that it was so dark and no one could see them, even when Dean probably still knew. Dean knew everything.

 

“He didn’t bite me, he scratched me.“

 

He felt all warm. Too warm? I paused.

 

“I only said that, cause I was so angry. I didn't mean to…“ I trailed off.

 

“I know that.“

 

“But then it all happened exactly like that.“ I sobbed. “That you got hurt, the thing with the house…“ … “And the thing with Hester,“ I added in my mind.

 

“It wasn't your fault.“

 

“Yeah, it was!“ I sobbed.

 

“So, as of late you got super powers? Cool, then I wish for a piece of apple pie now.“

 

“That’s not funny.“

 

“So you got powers? Cause I don’t see anything here.“

 

“It doesn't work that way.“

 

“It doesn't work at all, Sam!“ The hold of his hand was way less tight than it should have been.

“Bad things don't happen cause you summon them somehow. They just happen cause they happen, and cause life is damn unfair sometimes. It’s not your fault, alright?“

 

I pondered and then nodded.

 

“Fine, and don’t you dare only nod cause I expect you to and pull your hair otherwise.“ He petted my head once more. “And now let’s finally sleep. Today was a real son of a bitch.“

 

**

 

The next day, Dean wasn't really better. He was pale and barely managed the few steps to the toilet and back to the bed. Dad told me that Dean needed to rest to compensate the blood loss, and that I should leave him alone.

 

I really tried to do both, be useful and invisible at the same time. I did some maths exercises in my room, then I sat down in the sun in front of the house and filled so many rounds with rock salt until I didn't have any empty ones left. When I went back to the kitchen, I decided to scrub off the blood stains on the table and kitchen floor.

It didn't work.

Both of it.

I still couldn't help but think about Dean and was still in the way again and again, besides the stains didn't want to go off.

 

“What in the name of god are you doing?“

 

Dad had appeared in the doorway. His eyes were as haunted as those of a caged animal.

 

“I thought… I wanted to clean up.“

 

“With soap?“ He shook his head. “You want that someone slips and breaks their neck?“

 

Guiltily, I regarded the piece of soap and the cloth in my hand. I hadn't found anything else in the cupboard under the sink.

 

“Just do something you can’t cause any harm with. I dunno… go outside and play or something.“

 

He shooed me with his hands, but eventually he was the one going outside and I was still standing there and staring at the soap.

 

I wiped away the smears of soap with an old towel. Just when I tried checking if it was still slippery and you could slip there, I heard the ring of a phone from Dad’s room.

 

I froze in my movement and waited for anything to happen. That Dad would come back inside, or that the phone would stop ringing, but the shrill ring kept ripping the morning apart.

 

I approached the phone like it was a wild animal. Should I really pick up? But what was I supposed to say? Maybe it wasn't good to say your real name, then again, who had our number? Only someone who knew that we were here.

 

“Hello?“ I cautiously said into the speaker.

 

“Hello, boy. Is that you?“

 

“Bobby!“

 

A whole rockfall fell from my heart and when he laughed, I realized how much I liked him and how much I missed him. So much that I fought with my tears once again.

 

“Hell of a lot excitement for one night, right?“

 

“Hm, yeah.“ I curled the phone’s wire about my finger, hoping that he couldn't tell how throaty my voice was.

 

“How’s your brother doing now?“

 

Even when he attempted to make his tone a casual chat, under all the layers of indifference I heard his deep worry. Bobby had always liked Dean. But who didn’t?

What was I supposed to answer to his question? ‘He’s still alive‘?

 

“Fine,“ I said eventually.

 

“Well, that’s a start then.“ He paused, as if he didn't know how to continue. “He ain't acting any different, right?“

 

I knew he was worried, but at the same time I felt like he wanted to pick my brains. Something told me that I shouldn't tell him more.

 

“No, it’s all normal. He’s more tired. Dad says he needs to rest a lot.“

 

That wasn't even a lie.

 

“That’d be normal after what happened.“

 

I nodded, even though he couldn't see it.

 

“And you? How’re you doing, Sammy?“

 

“I wasn’t with them on the hunt. Nothing happened to me.“

 

Again he laughed, but it didn't sound cheerful.

 

“I know that, boy. I meant in general… well, you know…“

He sighed and then for a moment it was so quiet in the line that I could hear its clicking noise. “Ah, it’s not that important anyway.“

 

Again we remained silent and again I fought with my tears.

 

“Hey, Bobby?“

 

“Yeah?“

 

“When can we go see you again?“

 

Dean was in the kitchen and fetched something from the fridge, which was a good sign, because it meant that he was hungry again. I leaned my head against the wall.

 

“Well, uh… your father didn't say anything about that. I dunno.“

 

“Oh okay.“

 

Again he sighed.

 

“Sam… Maybe I come visit you soon. Would you like that?“

 

I liked Bobby better than all other hunters I knew, and that although he sometimes scolded and always smelled of liquor.

Sometimes we met people Dad knew and they sure said nice things to me, like that I grew so much and that I was a specially smart boy, but whenever they thought I wouldn't notice, they looked at me in a weird way and then I knew that they only said it without meaning it. Bobby actually liked me, even when he never said it, and I liked him.

 

“Yeah, very.“ I let go of the wire. “Hey, Bobby?“

 

“Yeah?“

 

“Can you find something out for me? It’s about a girl and her name’s Hester Evans and she used to live here.“

 

“You got a case?“ I heard him smirk. “What d’you wanna know?“

 

“If she actually disappeared.“

 

“I’ll get right at it, okay?“

 

Now I was smiling.

 

“Thanks, Bobby.“

 

“Just keep your chin up, okay? And look after your brother, he’s all flat on his back without you.“

 

“I’ll do that.“ I laughed. “You wanna talk to Dad, too?“

 

“No. I’ll call another time again, and Sam?“

 

“Yeah?“

 

“Better not tell anyone yet that I may come by. It’s supposed to be a surprise and I dunno if it gonna work out.“

 

“Okay, see you.“

 

 

***

 

“And what did Bobby wanna know?“

 

It was later that day and Dad was drying his hands with a towel. If you didn't know him, you could think that he actually didn't really want to know. But I knew Dad and I knew that look and I knew that all his attention was focused on me.

 

“How Dean is doing and all that.“

 

How did he even know about the phone call? From Dean?

 

“And what did you tell him?“

 

“That he’s fine?“

 

I was just putting the washed dishes back into the cupboard. It was good that I didn't have to look him straight into his face.

 

Dad didn't say anything for a long time and only unplugged the sink. Gurgling, the water disappeared.

 

“You know that he only asked cause he’s worried that your brother could turn into a werwolf?“

 

“But Dean won’t, right?“

 

It was pretty hard to reach the top cupboard. I had to get onto the tips of my toes.

 

“Of course not!“ Dad kept silent again and sat down on his chair. “It’s important that you understand that there’s things that need to stay in the family.“

 

I nodded and he nodded, too.

 

“Sam?“

 

“Yeah?“

 

“Do you know how to play ludo?“

 

**

 

In retrospect, that night was one of the nicest I could remember. Maybe it was just for the contrast, because the night before had been the most horrible in my life.

Who could say that anyway?

Dean had woken up again somewhere around the evening and at least he felt good enough to be able to sit at the kitchen table, and we could play the ludo game that Dad had found in one of the drawers.

I chose green.

I always chose green and Dean always chose blue.

Only then, I realized that I didn't knew which color Dad would pick because I didn't have a single memory of him ever joining the game.

There were some meeples missing anyway, so we had to replace them with rock salt rounds and take care that we didn't confuse them.

 

“You sure that you really wanna place your guy there?“ Dean even felt good enough to try and scare me. “Like that I only need to roll a five and you’re gone.“

 

“But I only need to roll a five, a four, a three, or a two when it’s my turn and then I’m in the house and safe from you.“

 

“You, little brother, won’t manage that.“

 

He shook the dices in his hands and even the look in his eyes was his own one again. There was that sparkle.

 

“No five, please no five,“ I begged silently.

 

When he moved his hand, five little black dots blazed towards me.

 

“Booom!“ Dean pointed his finger at me.

 

Dad laughed.

 

The night had been so nice that I had been angry for only a moment about him beating me right before the goal.

 

 

**

 

That night I even slept in Hester’s and my room.

I hoped that she wasn't too angry with me. After all, I hadn't slept up there in days and hadn't even thought about her during the past twenty-four hours. Maybe she was scared that I would forget her? But I had put Bobby on her case, she had to give me credit for that.

 

As I pulled the blanket over my body and stared at the roof slope above me, everything was quiet. Someone had bitten off a piece of the full moon outside my window, like off a cookie.

 

“Sleep well, Hester,“ I whispered quietly, and then once again towards the stairway, “Sleep well, Dean.“

 

With the good feeling of not being alone in the odd house any longer, my thoughts slipped into a warm darkness.

 

When I woke up, I knew that it couldn't be morning yet, and I also knew that something was very far from right.

My heart was pounding and I couldn't tell why.

The stars were still dancing through the branches of the tree and threw shadows onto the ground.

Everything was still silent, right?

 

I listened into the darkness and the longer I listened, the more I got the feeling of hearing something. A sob maybe.

Something that was so quiet that it was washed away as soft as a circle of waves in the water, barely more than an inkling.

 

“Dean?“

 

What if he wasn't okay? If he was still in pain? Or was turning?

 

I wanted to call his name but something kept me from it.

My own heartbeat was pounding so loudly in my ears that it over sounded everything else. Even the whine of the stairs I sneaked down and the opening of the door to Dean’s room.

 

“Dean?“

 

I only moved my lips. Only spoke his name in my mind.

 

There he was.

My eyes fell into his. So familiar, so endlessly familiar, and at the same time so far away. As though he wasn't even here. As though he had only left his empty vessel on the bed. Like yesterday, when I had to sew him up.

There was only pain and a thousand walls.

 

So I stood there for eternal moments and looked at him.

Only when a cloud moved away from the bitten moon, I saw that he wasn't alone. That Dad was lying on top of him and doing something.

 

When the moonlight touched him, my brother appeared from out of the deep well behind his eyes. He looked at me and I looked at him. Like two magnets. Nothing else happened.

 

I did a step back. Quietly, so quietly, so nobody would hear me. And then another one. Just as quietly I closed the door behind me and climbed up the stairs.

 

When I was lying in my bed, I pulled the blanket over me, so no one could see me.

 

“Just a dream,“ I told myself, hugging my knees.

I didn’t know what had happened, but I knew that it was very, very horrible, and very, very wrong. Way too horrible to ever speak about it.


	11. Chapter 11: The Lake of Shining Waters and the Boat with the colorful Sails

**Chapter 11: The Lake of Shining Waters and the Boat with the colorful Sails**

 

We didn’t talk about it. Not the next day and not the days after either.

 

Sometimes, when all was good and Dean was better so he could sit outside in the sun and Dad cooked for us and we all ate together, I didn't think about what had happened anymore, and I only remembered when I was lying in my bed at night and the summer’s heat was lying upon me so heavily that I couldn't sleep. Then I would ask Hester if I hadn't just dreamt all that, but she never answered.

 

Often, in dreams, things happen you’re scared of. Especially in my dreams. In my dreams people died.

Mostly it were people I didn't know and didn't even know if they actually existed. Sometimes I also dreamt of Mom. Although I didn't really know her either, only from pictures.

By all means, it was always bad. In a dream, after all, you didn't know that it was only a dream. It was as though it was my fault that happened. Sometimes the people in my dreams said that to me, too. Then the dream-Mom would say, “It’s all your fault that I have to die. I wish you never would’ve been born.“ Before she then crashed to the ceiling and started to burn.

 

When I then woke up in the middle of the night in some hotel beds, without knowing where I was and what had happened, the dream still echoing inside me, I always had to cry. But because Dean lay next to me, everything was all right. When he wrapped his arms around me and whispered, “What is it?“ I knew that it had only been a dream, and at the same time that nothing could happen to me, because he was there and would protect me.

 

“It’s fine. I just had a bad dream.“

 

I still never told him about my dreams and he never asked. He only smiled and went back to sleep. His hand on my shoulder.

 

I wished I could go back to him whenever I couldn't sleep at night. I wished I was little again and wouldn't be alone with all my fears and my mind.

I didn’t go to him anymore, no even when I thought I heard voices from his room. I pulled the sheets up to the tip of my nose and tried to keep away the night and everything in my head.

 

***

 

At least Dean’s wound healed well. It looked like a fat red caterpillar, though Dad could take the stitches out after nine days.

 

“Tell me, you avoiding me?“

 

I was just squeezing myself outside through the living room crack, when he stood in my way.

I couldn't look into his eyes that were almost as grey as gravel today, so I looked at my hands where I was holding my - well, to be precise, Hester’s - little wooden boat I had found in the treasure chest.

 

“Did you build that?“

 

Before I could shake my head it had landed in his hands, and he was eyeing it expertly.

 

“It’s a legit three-master like from one of those ships in bottles. I didn't know you can do that.“ Carefully, he handed me the ship back.

 

“I didn’t build it. It’s Hester’s, but I’m gonna make it swim in the creek.“ I gestured outside where the green of the woods became impenetrable.

 

“Sure, your ghost girlfriend.“ Something in his voice had changed. “But building boats she can. I gotta give her that.“

 

“I don’t think she built it.“

 

“Why?“

 

“Well, cause the boat has her name.“ I pointed at the boat’s front where ‘Hester‘ was written in fine lines. “Nobody builds a ship and names it after themselves.“

 

He nodded.

 

“Can I come? I can help you make it swim better, or we build even more ships. I’ll bring my knife.“

 

“Dad said you need to rest.“

_And that I should leave you alone._

 

“Yeah, but that was when I wasn't better. I’m all fit again.“

 

I nodded.

 

“Come on, Sammy. We don’t have school and I’m bored. Finally we got some time to do something together.“

 

“Okay.“

 

I couldn't even tell, if I wanted him there or not. Something had turned strange between us.

 

“Awesome.“

 

**

 

We didn’t talk to each other, while I made my way through the thick underwood and he followed me. The path was too narrow to walk next to each other. Again and again branches brushed my face and stinging nettles my naked legs. It was odd to hear his steps behind me. Usually, I was the one walking behind him.

 

You could already hear the water’s gurgle before you saw it. The forest thinned out a little and rays of sunlight fell through the leaves’ canopy, sparklingly landing on the waves of the gradually spreading out course of the creek.

 

“Pretty,“ Dean nodded approvingly. “You found this place by yourself?“

 

The summer smelled like algae, grass, and heat.

 

“Well, Hester drew a map. It hung above her desk and she sketched in the Lake of Shining Waters.“

 

“Lake of Shining Waters?“ He wrinkled his nose and sat down on one of the rocks. “That’s so girly embarrassing.“

 

“Actually it’s a quote from ‘Anne of Green Gables‘, but…“ I raised my shoulders and left the rest of the sentence unspoken. Dean looked at me like a deer in the spotlights already. “That’s a book,“ I explained.

 

He shrugged, tore out a blade of grass and threw it away. He was so quiet that even the birds remained silent. Only the water was chuckling, the way it probably already had before the first humans had wandered this continent.

 

“Anna said that the source the creek comes from used to be so clear and clean that all the houses got their water from here. That’s why they built the barrier lake.“ I sat down next to him. “And of course also for the electricity for the factories that don’t exist anymore and that are the cause that everything went down the drain.“

 

“Who’s Anna? The one from the book?“

 

“No.“ I shook my head, appalled, then laughed. “Her name’s Anne and she’s a Canadian orphan girl. Anna is the owner of the gas station we always shop at.“

 

And who didn't seem to like me anymore as of late.

She was still nice to me and had given me a popsicle again, when I had paid a visit to her a few days ago. But when I asked about Tess, she said she wasn't there, although I had heard the voices from the back room.

 

For a moment, I had thought about saying something, but then kept staring at my shoes. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding? Maybe Tess didn't have time and she was too impatient to explain it to me? Or there hadn't been any voices, but only a TV?

 

Then again, I knew the look following me when I had left. That mixture of pity and disgust. It hit me again in every new town and in every new school. No matter what I did, no matter who I pretended to be, it always ended up the same way. In the end I wouldn't belong. Not here and nowhere else either. It was better to smile and leave without any more words to, at least, keep a part of my dignity, and that’s exactly what I had done.

 

“I see.“

 

Dean briefly laughed, the way a flash flames up from a camera, and then turned all quiet again. I could only see his back and the way he picked up stones and threw them into the water where they created circles.

 

“Sam?“

 

“Yeah?“

 

He seemed to search for the right words. A part of me hoped that we would talk about ‘the night‘ now, while that was exactly what the other part feared.

 

“I don’t like that you busy yourself so much with ghosts and things like that.“

 

I exhaled the air that had gathered in my lungs.

 

“But that’s what hunters do, isn't it?“

 

“Hunters busy themselves with destroying ghosts and not with how they can make friends with them. They search their bones and burn them.“ Another stone flew through the air. “No hunter cares about what kind of person the ghost used to be before they died. What they were like and what they wished for. We just burn their bones.“

 

Again it was silent. I looked at the boat and then to the circles of waves.

 

“She’s not an actual ghost. Not like the ones you know. She doesn't attack me and it doesn't get cold either. Actually, she isn't even really there.“

 

“I know.“ He paused. Only closed his hand around the stone, but didn't let go of it. “That’s the first thing I checked. Believe me, if I had the slightest hint of a suspicion, I would’ve already burned all her stuff you like to spend time with so devotedly.“

 

“Then you would’ve had to burn the whole house.“

 

He only shrugged.

‘I don’t care‘ was what that gesture told me.

 

“Did you find out what happened to her yet?“ He still didn't look at me.

 

“I dunno.“ A gull hovered above the shining water and I wondered if it had flown here from the Michigan Lake. I had only read the first few pages of her diary so far. The ones about how she loved books, but hated school. The ones where she wrote about a boy called Liam, who spit at her every day, and her mother, who told her she shouldn't be such a baby about it, he sure had his reasons. The ones about the man, her siblings’ father, but not her own, bringing ice cream for all of them. For everyone but her.

“I don’t think I’m very lovable,“ she wrote in her diary. “Everyone who knows me turns away from me sooner or later.“

That was the moment I had closed the book. Because it was too thick, too private, and because it felt like I betrayed her.

“She was very lonely.“ I shrugged. _“Just like me.“_

 

“You need to take care,“ he said after a while, nudging me softly. “That you don't lose yourself in such things.“

 

In that moment I would’ve nearly been brave enough to ask him, but only nearly.

 

“You know the riddle about the two brothers in the woods?“

 

“What?“

 

His eyes were resting on my heavily. I shifted about uneasily.

 

“By a parting of the ways in the middle of a deep, dark forest, there lived two brothers in a house. The one always tells the truth, while the other only lies.“

 

“Is that us?“

 

“What? No!“ I shook my head. “There’s other brothers in the world, too.“

 

“Then it’s demons?“

 

“It’s no parting of the ways, but there just are two ways.“ _“Besides, demons always live alone,“_ I added in my mind. Why was it like that anyway? Why didn't they have a family?

“You’re the wanderer who comes to their house, and you don’t know which way to take. The one leads to the next village, where you wanna go, and the other leads deeper into the woods, where you would get lost and never find back out.“

 

At least, Dean didn't interrupt me anymore, but listened.

 

“Unfortunately, only one of the brothers is home and you don’t know which one, also you only get one question.“

 

“Why?“ Dean pulled a face.

 

“Cause it’s a riddle, idiot, and now guess.“

 

A fish jumped up through the surface of the water. Its silver body glinted in the sun.

 

“Are you the brother who lies?“

 

Dean really seemed to try and sound halfhearted, and somehow that irritated me.

 

“That’s totally stupid, cause both brothers would say no, and you still wouldn't know the way.“

 

“Your riddle is stupid and I’m tired of it.“ He gestured to the boat that was still resting in my lap. “Why don't we make the ship swim instead?“

 

***

 

Hester’s boat was fast. It flew over the waves, its sails flapping in the wind and rising up to the glowingly blue sky. I was proud how good it braved the tides, and at the same time full of concern. The moment I had let go of it, I knew that I would lose it. That’s how it was often with things I liked.

 

“Faster, Dean. We need to catch up with it!“

 

I ran through the shallow water of the bank slope and got irritated about how I hadn't thought about how to get back the boat before.

The peaceful calm water turned more and more foamy and wild. The boat was pulled further and further to the center of the creek. I tried to follow and felt the pull and the whirled about stones tearing at my legs. My clothes were long since soaked.

 

“Sam!“ Dean grabbed my arm.

 

“But the boat! I wanna have it back.“ The water had turned louder, too. I could barely hear his words. “I’m a good swimmer.“

 

“You nuts?“

 

He pulled me out of the creek grimly. There was more and more distance between me and the ship. A last time I saw the colorful sails hopping up between the rapids, then it was gone.

 

“Now it’s gone. Thanks, Dean!“

 

“You’re welcome. I just like to save your life.“

 

On his clothes there also were the dark outlines of the water. They clung to his body.

 

“My life?“ I laughed. “Cause it was so dangerous here. I sure would’ve drowned in the hip-high water.“

 

“It doesn't matter how deep it is. Didn't you notice the downward current? It could’ve just pulled you down and you never would’ve come back up.“

 

Again he gestured to the creek. Not far from us theres was the dam’s wall looming up like a red debris in all the green.

 

“You always act like I wasn't even viable without you, but I know what I’m doing and I can take care of myself. I’m not a baby anymore.“

 

“Good, then I’ll just forbid you to do it. You’ll never go play so far down the creek, understood!“

 

“You got no say to me.“ I crossed my arms. “You don’t even manage to take care of yourself. Why would I even listen to you?“

 

Then I ran.

 


	12. Chapter 12: The Big Night

**Chapter 12: The Big Night**

 

He caught up with me just before we reached our house. I instantly noticed the unknown cars in front of our house that were glowing in the evening sun. I even noticed them before I heard the voices from the garden.

 

Dean grabbed my arm.

 

“Hunters,“ he whispered.

 

“Bobby’s here,“ I whispered back, for I had found his car and was far too happy about it for keeping my grudge on Dean and the lost boat. Bobby was here. He had kept his promise. Now everything would be all right.

 

“But not only him.“ He pointed at the other car, a dark blue Dodge.

 

“I don’t care.“ I tried to shake off my brother. “If they’re Bobby’s friends, they’re okay.“

 

He didn’t say anything, but at least he didn't bother to keep hold of me. I followed the voices to the garden behind the house where the pile of furniture disappeared under an increasing cover of nettles.

 

“Bobby!“

 

I jumped towards the familiar shape and even when he had his back to me, he still noticed me and turned around just in time to catch me.

 

“Sam!“ He wrapped his arms around me. “How tall you gonna get?“

 

I wondered how serious that question was, for in my last class there had been only one single boy that had been shorter than me.

 

“Very, very tall.“

 

I nuzzled against him. His beard was scratchy and he smelled like familiar whiskey, like lack of showers and motor oil. I closed my eyes.

 

“Then those are the famous Sam Winchester and his brother Dean?“

 

I hadn’t even noticed the man who was standing next to Bobby. He was black and far younger than Bobby. Although he was smiling at me, I didn't like him.

 

“This is Gordon Walker. He is a hunter like your father and passing with a friend.“

 

It was uncomfortable that this stranger saw me in such an intimate moment. Bobby seemingly felt like that, too. At least he put me down like a too heavy grocery bag.

 

“Yeah, that’s right.“ Again he smiled.

 

What did he mean by famous? Had Bobby talked about us or Dad?

Did they know each other? Were they friends?

 

I looked for my father and found him by the pile of furniture with another man. They all had a bottle of beer in their hands. Although they were talking and laughing, they didn't look like they were amused.

 

“We hunters need to stick together, don’t we?“

 

Apparently, Gordon expected an answer from me, so I nodded.

 

“He’s no hunter. He’s a kid.“

 

Dean had put himself in front of me. He also had a bottle of beer in his hand and the last rays of setting sun made his eyes glow almost golden.

Gordon said nothing, then he eventually removed his eyes from me and threw it at Dean, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

 

“But you’re a hunter, right?“ That he now looked at Dean this strangely, I disliked that even more. “Tell me, how old are you, boy?“

 

“Old enough.“

 

He demonstratively took a sip of his bottle. If that was why Gordon had asked? Because Dean was actually too young to drink alcohol?

 

“No, no one’s ever old enough.“ He sighed and something in his face became soft for a brief moment. “I was way too young, too, when I started. I know what it’s like to hunt. It’s like there’s a world beyond the world and you wish you’d never thrown a look inside.“

 

He gestured at Dean’s arm. That one unconsciously followed the look.

 

“With me it were vampires, but werewolves are sons of bitches, too, huh?“ Now he made another step towards Dean. “You know what makes me sick of all those damn monsters the most?“

 

“That they’re ugly and eat people?“ Dean managed not to sound half as cool as he wanted to. He sounded insecure. Gordon seemed to sense it. He did another step towards him.

 

“Wrong! The worst is that they grow their kind with every bite. One day your neighbor is your neighbor and the next day he’s a snarling thing that wants to jump your throat.“

 

He raised his hands to the sky where the first stars pierced through the blue.

 

“Tell me, Sammy, d’you know when’s the best time to hunt a werewolf?“

 

I didn’t like that he called me Sammy. He had no right to, just like he had no right to put his hand on my shoulder.

 

“Hm, by full moon?“

 

“Right. They only change by full moon and they can’t remember what they did afterwards. Outside the full moon they’re ordinary people. How d’you kill a werewolf?“

 

“With a silver bullet?“

 

What was this about? Was this some sort of test?

 

He turned back to Dean. “And you say your brother’s not a good hunter?“

 

“What d’you really want here?“ Dean crossed his arms.

 

“Like good old Bobby already said, just wanna enjoy the hospitality among hunters for a while and then get going in the morning. Unless a monster happens to show up here. Then I’d gank it, of course.“ He took a sip from his bottle and then realized that it was empty. “Can I have another one?“

 

Dean just kept staring at him for another while until he eventually nodded. Then he sent me away with only a single look.

 

“Isn’t this a beautiful summer night?“ I head Gordon say. “Not a cloud in the sky. Sure the full moon out here glows even brighter than back in the city.“

 

**

 

I squeezed myself inside through the crack in the wall. That was far easier than walking around the house. When my feet touched the living room grass, I heard Bobby and Dad argue in the kitchen. I didn't know why I didn't make myself be noticed or just walked away, why I pushed myself flat against the wall instead and listened.

 

“And then you bring them here?“ Dad grumbled. “What were you thinking?“

 

“John, they’re hunters. Believe me, they would’a found you anyway.“ For a moment there was only the ticking sound of the clock, then he spoke anew. “The other hunters start talking. They wonder what happened to William and if they can still trust ya. You may not believe me, but I’m trying to save your ass.“

 

Dad laughed. It didn't sound cheerful.

 

“How nobel of you. Do you still trust me then? Or d’you also think I got William killed?“

 

“You tell me, John. He was your friend, just like he was mine. You been hunting together, but only you came back and instead of explaining anything, you ran away and hid in this house in the back of beyond. What ya think people think of that? Ya ever wonder how Ellen feels about it, or Joe? She’s eight.“ Bobby’s voice got louder. “So tell me, John: what really happened?“

 

“Nobody would’ve believed me anyway!“ Something thundered. Maybe a glass. Maybe a fist. I pushed myself harder against the wall that bore into my back ungivingly. “Not after what happened to Mary. Not after yellow eyes. The hunters get suspicious about me?“ He laughed again. “Surprise! They’ve always been.“

 

Dad remained silent for so long that I began to think he wouldn't say anything else, but then he continued.

 

“Hunters always wanna kill everything they don’t know. Rather make sure than miss something, that’s their motto. I know that something’s wrong with him, but he’s my son.“ Again something toppled over. “And a kid! I can’t kill my own son or let them do it.“

 

Adrenalin mingled with fear inside me. I tried to control the shiver.

They wanted to kill Dean? But why?

Because of that werewolf thing? Didn't they believe him that he hadn't been bitten?

I wouldn't let them. Never!

 

“They won’t,“ Bobby said again, with more emphasis. It was as though he was talking to a child. “I promise. I won’t allow, like you, that anyone gets a hand on him.“ His voice had something calming.

“We’ll fix this. You only gotta bear Gordon Walker’s stupid face for another few hours so he sees that everything’s all right, and tomorrow I’ll leave with him. Then you tell Ellen what happened to her husband. She’ll understand. She’ll forgive you. She knows the price you pay for a hunters life.“ In my mind I saw Bobby put a hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Everything’s gonna be fine.“

 

“Why you doing this?“

 

Silence.

 

“I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it for the boys. They have a good heart, both of them.“

 

 

**

 

When I came back outside through the crack, the world was black and a thousand stars hung in the sky like iron coins.

 

Dean was pouring spirit onto the pile of furniture. I only smelled. The tiny spark of a lighter ripped through the night’s robe, then spurts of flame shot up.

Gordon and the other man, who had come with him and whose name I didn’t know, were just kicking an old dresser into pieces. The flames made their bodies gleam in orange and at first, until my eyes adjusted to the light, it appeared like they were naked or skinned.

 

Something screamed and a ball of fire loosened from the flame and flew in-between our legs and into the dark,

Gordon was the first one to react. He was also the only one. A kick with his heavy boots made the flame expire and the screaming died.

 

“Sammy, don’t!“

 

Dean tried to get into my way. Then, I didn't know why, I walked onwards.

It pulled me to it. I had to see what he had seen.

 

I didn’t want to look, but I couldn't avert my eyes from the wincing, steaming body. It were only the outlines of the night’s coldness that smelled different now. By a nuance sweeter, like roasted almonds in all that smoke.

 

“Damn rat,“ Gordon laughed. “Nothing’s safe from them. Nothing. Serves her right. Shouldn't have hidden there in the first place.“

 

Dean’s eyes mirrored flames. Someone had told me that babies can hear their family’s voices even in the belly. That they know them without knowing them. That’s how I explained the deep bond to my brother. That there was a soundtrack in the deepest level of our hearts that had always existed, before I had even been born. Now, in this night by the fire, for the first time in my life I didn't know what Dean was thinking. If he was sorry that he had burned the rat or just that I had seen it. Maybe he wasn't sorry at all. Maybe there by the bonfire it was once again only his empty shell while his soul was somewhere else completely.

 

“Where’s my beer anyway?“

 

It took a moment until I understood the sense of his question and my thoughts ditched in reality. I had completely forgotten about him and the reason I had gone to the kitchen.

 

“I… Dad and Bobby gonna bring the whole crate outside.“

 

I hoped that it was true, but actually I didn't even care. Everything was weird and wrong. The rat had finally stopped wincing. Its paws were standing up from her body in angles, as though it wanted to protect herself.

I did a few steps and sat down on a sawed-off tree trunk. Where the light of the fire didn't reach me anymore. I saw them like they were on a stage, but they didn’t see me. Finally, I was alone. Finally, the air was fresh and clean. Finally, I could think. Only that it was cold here. I rubbed my bare arms and shooed off the mosquitos that were buzzing around me and trying to eat me.

 

“Hey, there you are.“

 

Bobby had found me anyway and sat down next to me. Maybe my hide-out hadn't been that good. But he was a hunter. He found everything he wanted to find.

 

“Yeah.“

 

I pulled my legs to my body and braced my head on them.

 

“A lot to take in, all that, huh? And then all those strange hunters, all of them have loose nuts.“

 

“Hmhm.“

 

“You worried about Dean?“

 

I was always worried about Dean and that Bobby put his hand on my shoulder didn't make it any better. I sobbed.

 

“You don’t need to. He ain’t changing to a werewolf.“

 

I thought about what to say without revealing that I had eavesdropped on him and Dad. I was lost for words and then came those stupid tears and I was all busy with not crying like a baby.

 

“But Dean’s my brother.“

 

Of course, Bobby knew that and it wasn't even what I wanted to say. Then again, if you boiled down everything save for his very essence, then maybe that was a truth that was left.

 

“What’s wrong, Sam?“

 

“Dad… well…“ I considered it. “I don’t want Dad to do such things with Dean.“

 

“You mean hunting? You scared that he’s gonna get hurt?“

 

“Yeah… no…“ I shook my head and tried to find the right ones out of the swarm of words that were drowning me and pierced through the surface with their sparkling bodies. Again the memory of the night appeared before my inner eyes. Again the words escaped me. The only thing I saw was Dean’s look. That empty wide look.

 

“I don’t want him to pinch him.“

 

The words were hovering in the air between us for a moment. It was so dark that I couldn't see Bobby’s face. I only heard my own dull heartbeat pulsate in my ears, and then a loud laughter. That was the moment I realized that I had made a mistake, that it would have been better to keep it to myself.

 

I hadn’t even noticed Gordon to leave his place by the fire and come to us.

 

He was still laughing and wiping his eyes.

 

“This is too good. Believe me, Sammy, your brother got way bigger problems than being pinched or tickled by someone.“

 

Again he looked at me in a strange way. I had to look away.

Shame was burning in my cheeks.

 

“Oh, boy,“ Bobby said. He didn't quite join the laughing, but he also sounded very amused. “It’s okay to be jealous. What d’you got a brother for?“

 

“But I’m not jealous… He’s… well, he did…“

 

I trailed off. Not only because Dad and Dean came towards us just in that moment.

 

“What kinda secret meeting you having here?“

 

Dean tried to be funny, but no one reacted to him. Dad said nothing. He was just there and filled the world with his presence.

 

“Oh, we were only talking about little Sammy and his big jealousy.“

 

I didn’t know what it was that was in his look, but it wasn't humor and neither was it the haze of alcohol. Although he lifted the bottle of beer in the air, I knew that he was nowhere near as drunk as he pretended to be. His reactions were still those of a hunter, the rat had learned that the hard way. Every of his senses buzzed and vibrated.

 

“He thinks it’s not fair that he never gets tickled.“

 

He laughed again and then stood up and staggered towards some bushes.

 

“There’s a toilet in the house. You pig,“ Bobby called after him.

 

After that it was silent and everyone was looking at me. Bobby concerned, Dad accusingly, and Dean only looked past me into the fire. Me, I wished I could just stop existing for a moment.

 

“He’s always been too soft.“ Dad was talking about me, as though I wasn't right there. As though I wasn't sitting right next to him, and maybe that was the worst. “And he hangs onto Dean like a ducky that’s waddling after its mother. Now you saw yourself how angry he can get when something comes between him and his brother.“

 

Bobby and Dean betrayed me by joining the laugh. Why didn't Dean say what had happened? Why didn't he defend me?

 

“Well, it’s probably our fault.“ Dad tousled my hair and with that eyeballed me so thoughtfully like he would see me for the first time. I had expected him to get mad. That he would say that I’m lying, but his oddly piercing look was far worse. He made me feel small and stupid. Made me want to curl into myself and disappear.

 

He turned to Dean.

 

“When I told you to look after your brother I didn't mean that you should spoil and soften him.“ Again Dad laughed. “I mean, your mother was bad when it came to that, but even she would’ve let go of him at some point. It’s time Sam grows up. So he can join the family business.“

 

Crickets chirped somewhere and contributed something to the night’s melody. Dean tore out a blade of grass by his feet and avoided looking at anyone.

 

“If Mom were still alive, I never would’ve had to do her part and Sammy would never go hunting. Then we’d live in a house in Kansas like normal people and not even know what hunting or demons even are.“ He slowly rose. “Then we’d be happy.“

 

I looked after him as he disappeared in the darkness, while my legs were still made of stone and I couldn't move.

 

“You do wanna hunt, don’t you?“ Dad eventually asked. His voice sounded different as well.

 

I nodded, because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't even know what to feel apart from embarrassment and the feeling that I had done something wrong.

 

Dean was standing by the fire and the night was so dark that it looked as if he didn't have eyes anymore, and I still saw it.

There was something that had been pounding and hammering inside him for years. That made him angry and sad and that clenched in his soul everyday, like a splinter that had grown into the skin.

As long as I could think back he lived in this state of uncertainty. He tried to get along in the normal world, only to then glow in that other world that worked by its own merciless rules. I had always thought that that was what he wanted. Everyday, I had waited for him to open the door for me so I could come along, so we would be together and I would get some of his glow.

 

My whole life, I had wanted to be like Dean.

My brother was like a star. He was so damn bright and so damn far away and he was just about to fall from heaven and burn up.

 


	13. Chapter 13: Direct Line Downstairs

**Chapter 13: Direct Line Downstairs**

 

I did what I did best: I left.

 

After the grown-ups had drunken even more beer, after they were laughing even louder to overplay their discomfort and their dislike towards each other that surrounded them like dark clouds, they had completely forgotten about my existence.

 

I walked deeper into the woods and hid under a willow, its branches surrounding me like time. Through the leaves I could still see them stand by the fire and the night’s wind carried their voices over to me.

Gordon kept his eyes trained on his gun, just like I kept mine on Dean. It was like a puppet theater where either Punch or Judy were on the stage, but never both at the same time.

 

_Dear kids, have you seen the crocodile?_

 

_Its right there! There! Why don’t you see it?_

 

I didn’t know what I would do if Dean and Gordon crossed ways, but I knew that I would never let him harm my brother.

 

The fire slowly burned down. Only the glow was still orange there in the dark. Nobody needed the fire’s light to see. The bright disk of the moon was already hanging in the night sky for hours and dipped the world in white light.

 

Dean hadn’t turned. Of course not. Why did nobody care?

 

“I’ll go to bed now.“

 

I hadn’t heard Gordon’s friend speak the whole night and was surprised how soft his voice sounded.

 

“Already? You know it’s not over yet.“

 

I hadn’t intended to eavesdrop on them. They had moved towards my hide-out. Now I holed up in the night and tried to move as little as possible so I wouldn't draw attention.

 

“Yeah, it is, Gordon, and I’ll go to bed.“

 

Gordon’s hand shot up and grabbed for the man’s shoulder.

 

“You’re a hunter, Jack.“

 

So Jack. Now the silent stranger had a name.

 

“Right, and that means I kill vampires or ghouls and shape shifters for all I care, but not humans.“

 

“He’s not human!“

 

Jack bit his lips, otherwise his face barely showed any emotions. Maybe the moonlight blurred his mimic.

 

“What you gonna do? Shoot him in front of his father and his brother? Even Bobby Singer’s here.“ He shrugged the hand off his shoulder. “Even if I believed you, which I don’t, it’s still suicide.“

 

“Then it is!“ Gordan became louder. “What are two lives compared to a thousand? You know what he’s capable of. You know what they say about him. We need to destroy him before it’s too late.“

 

A branch creaked under my knees. For a moment, I held my breath in panic. But they didn't seem to notice.

 

Thousands? What did they think Dean could do?

 

“Sam?“

 

Dean was standing in the open crack of the house and looked around. The light that lighted his backside and flew through the cracks into the darkness gave the house a supernatural aura. As if here the light began of which they said that it’s waiting at the end of the tunnel.

 

“Sammy? Where are you?“ He looked around. “Have you seen my brother?“

 

“He’s just been here.“

 

Bobby and Dad had stood up from their seats by the campfire and looked around.

 

I couldn't answer without making myself noticed, but I needed to take action.

 

“Shhhh, quiet,“ Gordon hissed and then, “This family is cursed. I’m sure John Winchester knows what he protects. He’s got a direct line downstairs.“

 

He looked down to the ground meaningfully before he turned around and went back to the others, as though nothing ever happened.

 

“What is it?“

 

“Sammy’s gone.“

 

Dean’s face was made of panic.

 

Now that they didn't stand next to me anymore I tried, as quietly as possible, to crawl out of my hide-out. I fell back into the thicket, took a turn then to reappear at the other side of the garden. It was so dark that I didn't see a root and crashed to the ground. The pain was brief and hard. I squinted my eyes and tried to breathe it away.

I still heard my brother call for me in the garden. Gordon and Bobby were also calling. I could clearly hear the worry in Dean’s voice.

 

“I’m here.“ I staggered to my feet, wiped the dirt off my hands, and ran to the garden. “I’m here.“

 

Again all pairs of eyes were on me.

 

“Sammy!“ The relief my brother radiated rapidly turned into anger. “What were you thinking just running away? What in the world were you doing in the woods by night?“

 

“I… I was playing.“ I pondered. “Being a hunter.“

 

The other grown-ups had already turned away in disinterest. Only Dean didn’t.

 

“Are you nuts?!“ He shook me. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is to walk through the woods in the middle of the night? You could’ve gotten lost or fall into the river?!“ He let go of me. “What would I’ve done if something had happened to you?“

 

“It’s not as dangerous as being on the road with Dad and hunt a werewolf.“

 

I crossed my arms.

 

“That’s not the same thing.“

 

For a while, we stood there and dueled each other with our glares, like cowboys in a Wild West movie.

 

“Why did you even look for me?“

 

“Cause it’s time for bed?“

 

Dad was maybe right about his opinion about me, but I wasn't the fledgling voluntarily. Dean mothered me. Whether I wanted or not.

 

“It’s summer break.“

 

“So?“ He shook his head. “Only cause there are other hunters here, doesn't mean that you can do whatever you want the whole night, and it also doesn't mean that you should behave like an asshole.“

 

“I’m behaving like an asshole? You were the one embarrassing me earlier and everyone was laughing at me.“

 

He said nothing, only grabbed my wrist.

 

“Come on now!“

 

“Where are we going?“

 

We had already reached the hallway and turned to his room. To my surprise he dragged me on to the stairway and then on to my room.

 

“Whether you believe it or not, but I can go to bed by myself.“

 

“I’ll stay with you tonight. Gordon and his buddy need to sleep somewhere. If they even sleep and not spend the whole night eliminating Dad’s complete beer supply.“

 

“But my bed’s too small for two people.“

 

“My goodness, princess, then I’ll sleep on the floor!“

 

Dean grabbed for Hester’s pink plaid and curled into himself on the wooden floor. All I saw was his back, slowly rising and falling.

 

“Dean?“ I said after a while. “I want you too sleep next to me.“

 

He said nothing and at first I thought he was too much in a snit to accept my offer. That he actually fell asleep on the hard floor was pretty unlikely.

I knew my brother. Dean could be really resentful. At least towards me. I was probably one of the few people who knew this side of him and it was a weird feeling when I realized.

Dean’s world only contained of enemies and admirers. When I walked down the hallways of school beside him people turned around to him. They didn't do it because he was so handsome. They did it because they sensed that he was special and that something would happen to him. Wherever he appeared the world was destabilized.

_“In between ebb and flow,“_ Ellen had explained to Joe when she wanted him to write into her friends book. _“People like him are always in between ebb and flow. Such people are surrounded by a pull. You can only admire them from the distance, otherwise you’ll get swallowed by them. Never think you can keep them. Never think you’re the one person who will save them.“_

 

All the people looking after him bounced off his unapproachable smile and the spark of his eyes. I knew that they envied me for walking by his side, for him talking to me, and especially for me being the only person who could enter the world behind his far too green eyes. When they saw us they imagined how it would be if they had another life. A life close to Dean Winchester.

Sometimes you couldn't see anything but green in his eyes, then it was as though you got lost in the woods.

 

Although he said nothing, I felt the sheets be lifted and how he eventually slipped in beside me. My bed really was small, but luckily I was lying by the wall, so I couldn't fall out.

Lying with Dean in one bed had always been like lying in a boat that carried you through the night safely. I missed the nights that had been filled with our whispers.

 

With Dean next to me it was even warmer than it already had been before. I thought about opening the window, but then I remembered that it was already open. I badly wished for the heavy coldness of the night finding its way back to us into the house.

 

“You feel so warm, too?“

 

“Mhm.“

 

Numberless stars were glowing in the sky. Last autumn, there should have been a meteorite shower. I can still remember how we had planned to sneak out of the hotel by night and watch the stars falling. I had even made a list of wishes. Just in case. It would be such a bummer, after all, if you didn't know what you wanted to wish for right in the moment a shooting star appeared.

 

_“And you?“_ I had asked. _“Will you remember all your wishes?“_

 

Dean had only shrugged.

Eventually, there hadn't been any stars. For no one. Clouds had covered the sky.

 

“I think there’s gonna be a thunderstorm soon.“ His eyes were open and he was looking at me. “Then it’ll finally cool down.“

 

I had no idea how he would know that. No storm announced rain. I breathed in the air. Nowhere a summer night smelled like here. So heavy, so full of meaning.

 

I eventually turned to face the wall. Like that I at least wouldn't have to breathe in Dean’s hot breath. I could read the name on the coating even in the dark. The full moon was shining far too brightly. I reached out my hand and fumbled with the coating. Sometimes I imagined that cotton candy must feel like that.

 

“Why didn't you say anything earlier?“ Dean said nothing, but I knew he heard me. “When I talked to Bobby?“

 

Silence. Only the crickets kept on humming their song. There was something sad to it and at the same time something wistful. A bird was singing and then fell quiet. If it was a nightingale? I had never heard a nightingale sing.

 

“Is Dad…. is he possessed?“

 

The coating was stingy like a thousand little splinters of glass in my fingers, so I let go of it.

 

“What?!“

 

I turned back to him. Even in the darkness his eyes were so wide, questioning and somewhat horrified.

 

“No matter what you two say. I didn't imagine it. It really happened. He was lying on top of you, Dean. Did he try to bite you?“

 

“That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard. Are you completely out of your mind now?!“

 

This time he was the one turning away from me and leaving me with my disappointment. Now I could only see his back and the movements of his rapid breathing that was clearly visible under his t-shirt.

 

“I didn’t imagine that. Gordon said it!“

 

“You talked to Gordon?!“ I had hoped that Dean would react to that, but I never assumed how much it would bother him. He grabbed me by the shoulders and squeezed. “Have you taken leave of your senses?“

 

“Stop it! You’re hurting me.“

 

“What did he say to you?!“

 

I pushed his hand away. Tomorrow I would surely have bruises.

 

“He didn’t say it to me. I eavesdropped on him, okay? But I heard him tell his friend that someone in our family is bound to the powers of hell.“

 

Something in Dean’s face looked almost happy. Even the hold about my shoulder loosened.

 

“Sam, Gordon was drunk and he’s not a good person.“ His voice was now so soft that I could feel it. “You can’t believe him. It’s better you just stay away from him.“

 

“But what if he’s right?“ I scooted closer to Dean. “Something’s wrong with Dad. Why else would he do such weird things?“

 

“Leave it alone!“

 

Another mood swing. His voice was suddenly as loud and hard as it had been soft before.

 

“But why…“

 

“Why, why?! Are you three again or what? Get it already that I don’t wanna talk about it!“

 

I didn’t like what I saw in his anger-mingled features. My brother had shut the door to him, pulled the key from the inside and thrown it away.

 

“Just stop this. Understood? You’re so naive and stupid if you think you only gotta dig deep enough to find gold, but that’s not how life works.“ He was so close now that he scared me. “You dig and dig, but the only thing you’re gonna find is crap and some half-rotten dead bodies. So do yourself a favor and leave it alone!“

 

I didn’t want to see Dean anymore, but I could hardly throw him out of my bed, so I turned back to the wall and tried to get control over my sobbing.

 

“Sammy…“ His voice sounded just as sad as mine. As though he was crying. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to pick up a fight.“

 

He should have thought about that before snapping at me like that although I hadn't done anything wrong.

He put his hand on my back. I didn't want it and shook it off.

 

“You remember when you were little?“ I didn't know what exactly he was talking about. After all I had been little for a long time and I could only remember a few of the moments. “One night we were lying in a hotel bed, almost like right now, and when I woke up you were gone.“ He swallowed. “It was the worst moment of my life. I thought someone’s taken you away and I’ve lost you forever.“

 

I had always thought Mom’s death had been the worst moment in his life, but maybe his life just had many bad moments.

 

“But then I heard your quiet snoring. You just slipped in the crack between bed and wall and kept sleeping on the floor.“ His voice sounded like he was smiling, while I was still staring at the wall. “I liked the time when you still really needed me.“

 

A part of me wanted to answer, _“But I still need you“._ I didn't find the strength. But at least I managed to turn around, look at him, and let him petting my arm.

 

“We only have Dad left, don’t you understand? Nobody would protect us if it weren’t for him. We’d be all alone then.“

 

I still didn't say anything. His fingertips were so soft.

 

“Family is everything, Sammy. It stands above all. So you need to sacrifice things for it.“

 

“You said we could always talk about everything. That there’s no secrets between us.“

 

My voice sounded so small and foreign.

 

He nodded.

 

“We can talk about anything, Sammy. Just not about that. I can’t talk about it to anyone.“ He shook his head. “Please just don’t ask again.“

 

I didn’t want anything to stand between us forever. Whatever Dad was doing with him, it separated us, like the dawn separates day and night. But if I didn't agree, we would keep fighting. I didn't want Dean to draw away from me. If he left, he would take everything with him and I would be alone.

 

I used to try and keep him awake by asking a thousand questions. ‘How far away is the moon?‘, ’You think Bobby’s still awake?‘, ’Do cows sleep with closed eyes?‘

 

Now I tried to lie as still as possible so I wouldn't have to say anything else.

 


	14. Chapter 14: Can Demons Cry?

**Chapter 14: Can Demons Cry?**

 

The next morning I heard voices from downstairs and the bed next to me was empty. I was torn between the wish to run downstairs to join them and hear be able to talk to Bobby again, and just hole up here in my bed to wait for Gordon and his silent friend Jack disappear.

I didn’t like him and something inside me told me that that was a mutual feeling. Besides, Dean had told me that I should stay away from him.

 

I poked my feet out from under the blanket and touched the narrow rug in front of my bed.

On the other hand, Gordon knew what was wrong with my family and so he was the only chance to save it.

 

“ _Wrong,“_ I thought. _“The others know, too. Everyone knows. Bobby knows and even Dean does.“_ I had seen it in their looks. They knew, but they didn't talk to me about it. The realization to be left out again hurt.

 

I was still listening to the voices and trying to grasp single words. Eventually, I couldn't help it any longer. My curiosity and especially my full bladder drove me downstairs.

 

“Good morning.“

 

I quickly darted past the kitchen and into the bathroom.

The table was so full that there was no space for me anyway, so I was standing in the corner indecisively.

 

“Come, I’ll scoot over,“ Bobby said, and I was just about to make a step towards him when someone rang the door.

 

No one had ever rang the door before, not since we lived here, and so I couldn't quite make sense of the sound at first. It was loud and shrill and it made me flinch.

 

The others didn't seem to feel any different about it. The threw each other questioning looks.

 

“What was that?“

 

Gordon had grabbed for his gun that he was carrying even at breakfast.

 

Dad only beckoned them to stay in their seats and keep it down, before he also drew his gun and went to the door.

 

“There’s a girl outside the door,“ he whispered after having thrown a look through the spy hole.

 

“Maybe it’s Sammy’s ghost girlfriend?“

 

I didn’t like Dean when he was sitting between the other men and acted like he was one of them.

 

“A ghost?“ Jack echoed.

 

“Ghosts don’t ring the door in the early morning hours, you idjits,“ Bobby quieted them.

 

Then the scales fell from my eyes and I pushed past Dad and opened the door.

 

“Tess! What are you doing here?“

 

This time her unruly hair were pinned up with red ribbons. Anyway, she looked different. When I looked down at her I noticed the peach-colored silk dress with puffy sleeves.

 

“Look at you!“

 

“Thanks, I’m also happy to see you, Sam.“

 

Nothing had changed about her skeptical look.

 

“Your house doesn't really look that renovated yet.“ Without waiting for any answer, she stepped into the hallway.

 

“Yeah, well this is my Dad.“

 

I was glad that Dad had at least hidden the shotgun behind the door so she couldn't see it.

 

“And that’s Tess, a friend of mine.“

 

“Good day, Mr. Winchester,“ she smiled.

 

Dad was far too perplexed to say anything. When she got out of her shoes and scurried into the house, I realized that she was the very first person to ever visit me and that I only knew situations like that from TV shows.

 

“Are those the handymen?“ she asked when she reached the kitchen.

 

Inwardly, I begged that Gordon wouldn't tell me off. That he wouldn't jump on Tess and shoot a load of rock salt into her face, but he seemed frozen as well.

 

“Yeah, reinstatement work is my special field,“ Bobby nodded.

 

“That one’s my brother.“

 

I pointed at Dean who didn't say a word. His look was just as repellent as Gordon’s.

 

She only nodded and took my hand.

 

“You don’t look like brothers.“

 

We had already reached the stairway.

 

“You think? Everyone else always tells us how alike we look.“ That wasn't true. Actually, nobody said that. I remembered that time we had fetched our papers from the principal of our last school.

 

“So, the Winchester brothers.“ He had turned to me. “If you didn't know, you couldn't tell that Dean of all people is your brother.“

And although Dean was the one who had gathered four suspensions during the time we had spent at that school, I had felt like hearing something like irreverence in his voice.

 

“Winchester brothers, that sounds like a circus,“ I had nudged Dean when we had been alone in the hallway again.

 

“I think it sounds like a freak show.“

 

 

“Come, let’s go to your room. I need to show you something,“ Tess said.

 

“It’s not done yet,“ I lied when we climb up the ladder. “I only sleep there for now until my room’s ready and the truck with all our stuff arrives here.“

 

She had climbed ahead.

 

“This is Hester’s room, isn't it? And everything’s just like she left it at the time?“

 

“Yeah.“

 

“Cool.“

 

Now that flakes of dust and the light were dancing around Tess I had to think of Hester again.

 

I had taken her picture upstairs and put on the desk so I could look at it as often as I wanted. As though I would be able to understand her better that way. Hester was prettier than Tess. Her hair was blonde like the cornfields we had driven past and her eyes were so blue that it was like falling into the sky. But she was here so rarely. I pondered. It wasn't that she was probably dead and we were chasing after just a phantom while Tess was dancing through my room for real. It was that she looked into space even on the pictures. There was a flicker about her, hiding her from the world.

 

“Look and marvel,“ Tess said, drawing a notebook from her bag.

 

“What’s that?“

 

“Mom’s yearbook.“

 

She opened one of the last pages.

 

“Look how pretty my mom was. She could’ve become a model or something, but instead she got me.“ She made a waving gesture with her hand. “I don’t ever wanna have kids, Sam, and I never wanna be stuck in a jerkwater town like Snover either.“

 

I nodded and regarded the picture of a young black woman. I had never seen Tess’ mom during any of my visits. I was so used to my own mom-less reality that I hadn't even noticed.

 

“When I’m older I’ll go to New York and get rich and famous.“

 

We had never been to New York. Dad said that there were enough hunters there and that they were all strange. Besides, the hotel rooms there were unaffordably expensive and you couldn't drive a car through the streets without getting your side mirror being driven off.

 

Again I nodded.

 

“Actually, I didn't wanna show you the picture of my mom, but this one.“

 

She turned some pages and then pointed her finger on a picture.

 

“Hester!“

 

“Right. When Mom was in her graduating year Hester was in fifth grade.“

 

“But then…“ I calculated. “Then your mom’s only in her twenties.“

 

She nodded.

 

“She was sixteen when I was born. You could say that wasn't quite planed.“

 

My eyes flew over the book’s page because I didn't know what else to answer, but except for the class photo and the obligatory portrait with name tags Hester wasn't to be found. She hadn't attended the lower grade prom or at least had her picture taken, and at the project “Building Instruments out of Garbage“ there were also only the smiling faces of strangers.

 

“Is your mom nice then?“

 

Tess shrugged.

 

“She lives in Chicago.“ There was a waving hand gesture following. “I barely know her. But I talked on the phone to her the other day and asked her about Hester.“

 

“So?“

 

“They used to take the same school bus. Back then, Snover had its own school still, so the drive wasn't that far.“ Tess’ eyes glowed by excitement. “Mom said that she was always quiet and always alone and also that surely no one could even remember her, if she hadn't disappeared, cause Hester was so invisible.“ Tess made a dramatic pause, and I waited for her to go on. “No one really remembers Hester Evans, but the day of her disappearance, everyone remembers that.“

 

“Why’s that?“

 

“Well, because the thunderstorm came so abruptly that nobody expected it. It was so bad, Mom says, as if all hell broke loose over the world.“

 

“You think the thunderstorm had a supernatural cause?“ I talked before I had though about it. A mistake.

 

“Supernatural? What d’you mean by that?“

 

It was crazy that she believed in ghosts but now wrinkled her nose, as though I had said something weird. That was the moment I realized once again that she wasn't like me. That there was an invisible wall between us that separated us.

Maybe her mom had been a teenager and forever gone, maybe her grandma fought an unwinnable battle against the town’s dying out, but all that didn't change anything about Tess being on the side of people being able to live a normal life, one with houses and white wooden facades and kid’s birthday parties with homemade cake, while on my side of the world there was only darkness, Tod, and numerous variations of monsters.

 

“Well, maybe she made a deal with a… demon?“

Every single word I said was like a step over a border I had been told never to step over. “I heard somewhere that something like that is possible.“

 

It was one of those secrets nobody was supposed to know.

 

“Demons?“ At least she wasn't laughing but sincerely seemed to be thinking about it.

 

“Do they have horns on their heads?“

 

“No, they look like humans. They promise something you always wished for and in exchange they want your soul.“

 

She bit her lower lip.

 

“You ever met a demon, Sam?“

 

I shrugged.

 

“No.“

 

The thing with Mom didn't count. I had been too young then to remember.

 

She had turned to the window and was regarding the forest.

 

“And where do demons come from?“

 

“From hell.“

 

“No, I mean, what did they used to be before?“

 

I pondered. I had never talked to Dad or Dean about that question.

 

“I think they used to be humans who’d done something evil or sold their soul.“

 

“Like ghosts?“

 

“Ghosts are rather bound to the place they died at. They can’t leave.“

 

“So ghosts as well as demons used to be kids like us at some point?“

 

I pondered again and then nodded.

 

“I think so, yes.“

 

She moved her chin forwards.

 

“Then I’m not scared of them.“

 

We both laughed and fell onto Hester’s bed. The buzzing of an engine fell into that laughter. I probably wouldn't have even noticed it, if Tess hadn't reacted that panicky.

 

“Damn it! That’s my grandma.“

 

“But weren’t you allowed to…“

 

She shrugged and at the same time shook her head.

 

“It may be possible that I maybe accidentally didn't really say where I go, okay?“

 

“She doesn't like me, does she? That’s why she told you not to come here.“

 

Tess stopped in her movement.

 

“It’s not about you, Sam. Grandma likes things that are nice.“ She briefly laughed. “Nice pillows on the sofa, a nice dress…“ She picked at her sleeve.

 

I was aware that I wasn't one of those things.

 

“Your dad was shopping at our shop.“

 

So she had met my family and if there was one thing it wasn't it was nice.

 

“She said that she feels sorry for you and that it’s not your fault, but that there’s something wrong with you father.“ She pulled at one of her hairbands. “That’s why I’m not allowed to see you again.“

 

There was another ring at the door and we both flinched.

 

“And then you ran away?“

 

“Shit…“

 

“We can climb out of the window.“

 

She shook her head. While I followed her down the stairs I realized that not only Tess was in trouble. Dad was surely anything but delighted.

 

Already when I turned around the corner I could see him in the open door.

 

“Ah, there she is.“

 

Although Anna looked friendly as ever, I could see the storm behind her eyes. Tess also noticed.

 

“It was important and I would’ve come back right away.“

 

“Oh, it was so important that you would’ve missed your mother’s wedding?“

 

“That’s only tomorrow. Why do I even have to go with Aunt Betty today already while you come only tomorrow?“

 

“We won’t discuss that any longer. You know that I can’t close the shop all the time.“ Dad and her exchanged that “typical kids“ look while at the same time they evaluated each other.

 

“And remember Wednesday’s Bingo, John.“

 

“Of course, Anna, as soon as the renovations make it possible.“

 

It astonished me time and time again how good grown-ups were at lying.

 

When Tess was led to the parking car under the firm look of her grandmother, like a convict to the scaffold, I suddenly realized that this was the last moment we had together. That we wouldn't see each other again after this. I ducked under Dad’s arm and ran after her.

 

“What else did your mom know about Hester?“

 

I tried to catch up with her so close that the grown-ups wouldn't hear it.

 

“Nothing else,“ she whispered back and hugged me. “But you’ll sure find her, Sam.“

 

“Come on now, Theresa,“ Anna called impatiently.

 

“I’ll come visit you again when summer’s over and I’ll be back. She can’t tell me not to.“

 

“Our house will sure be finished then.“

 

I smiled and tried to ignore the lump in my throat. For a child I was pretty good at lying already.

 

“Sam?“ She hugged me again. “I thought about it again. Demons and ghosts used to have a soul just like us, but then something terrible happened that pushed them into darkness.“ She drew back and grabbed for the car door. “We shouldn't be scared of ghosts or demons. We should be scared of what has the power to break a person like that.“

 

“Farewell,“ I whispered after her when the car vanished in a cloud of dust.

 

**

 

I just kept standing in the driveway, looking at the path lit by sunlight.

 

“Sam!“

 

In the corner of my eyes I saw that there were no other cars in the yard, save for the Impala. That Gordon was gone was a good thing, but that Bobby had left, too, without at least saying goodbye to me, felt like stones in my stomach.

 

“Come back inside already!“

 

By my father’s voice I could tell that I was in trouble now. Actually, I had realized that at the latest when I had let Tess inside the house.

Oh well. Actually, I had already crossed the border when I talked to her or her grandma. Dean and I weren't allowed to have any contact to civilians. That was one of Dad’s unspoken rules.

 

“What were you thinking?“

 

He grabbed me so harshly by the shoulders that my head was tossed upwards and I had to look at him.

 

“I’m sorry. I only played with Tess when I was so bored and you were on the hunt after that werewolf. I didn't know that she would come here. It was only a game.“

 

There was a flash in his eyes, as though there was another layer behind the brown of his iris.

 

“I’m not talking about the girl and her terrible grandmother. I’m talking about the things you told Bobby yesterday.“

 

He let go of me and I was far to perplexed to even react.

 


	15. Chapter 15: Itty-bitty and Transparent

**Chapter 15: Itty-bitty and Transparent**

 

“But I…“

 

“Why d’you tattle on me with hunters you know ain’t our friends. Ain’t there anything holy to you?“

 

I felt tears rising and drowning me inside.

 

“I didn’t know Gordon was listening, too. I just wanted to…“

 

Yes, what exactly was it that I wanted?

 

“I don’t wanna hear any of that anymore.“

 

Dad had turned around to the window. His back was wide and eerie, like that of a bear.

 

“Just stop ruining this family.“

 

So small. I felt so small and useless.

 

“Leave him alone!“

 

Through the mist of tears I didn't even know where Dean had come from. He had probably been sitting at the kitchen table all along where I had left him when Tess had arrived. Quiet, stiff, and translucent, like a lake during winter. But now he had come to new life and there was a fire surrounding him.

 

“Dean?“ Even Dad noticed the change. “What’s this about? You trying to order me around now?“

 

“No, sir.“ Dean lifted his hands in defense. One look from Dad and whatever had driven him had died. “I just mean… Sammy’s just a kid. He can’t tell what’s happening. He still doesn't understand so much.“ He was standing so close to me that I could feel the warmth of his body. “Besides, we already talked about it. It’s all sorted out already.“

 

I was still looking to the ground. I didn't see what was happening in their faces or what kind of looks they exchanged. I only saw the cracks and broken pieces in brown tiles and a silverfish scurrying into the darkness to a place only it knew.

 

“You wanna have pancakes again today?“ Dad took the bowl from the counter. “We still got so many eggs, and there’s also some flour.“

 

“Yeah, nice idea,“ I heard Dean say next to me, noticing his posture relax again. I knew that I was supposed to pretend excitement now as well. That I was supposed to run to the fridge and fetch some eggs. That I was supposed to just act like the world was all right, as though there were no light and dark places you were not allowed to enter.

 

It cost me endless strength to lift my eyes from the floor. It felt like swimming against the current or carrying a bag that was far too heavy.

_“No, no, no, no,“_ Dean’s look seemed to say when he noticed it. _“Please, Sammy, don’t do it.“_

 

“Dad?“

 

“Huh?“

 

He had just put down the bowl in front of himself.

 

“Why are you doing it? Why are you hurting Dean?“

 

For a moment the world stood still. Dad’s eyes transformed from questioning to surprised to angry, while Dean’s eyes drowned in an ocean of panic.

 

“Did you turn him against me?“

 

“What?“ Dean’s eyes were wide like moons.

 

“I asked you if you put those lies in his head?“

 

There were a few seconds where I only felt relief about Dad’s anger falling onto Dean and not me. But that moment was short, for then the remorse caught me.

 

“I’m always out there, always.“

 

He was pointing at the green outside the window. His face looked as though he wanted to say so much more. But he only shook his head and kept quiet.

 

“You two got no idea what I had to give up.“

 

“Dad…“

 

Dean tried to reach for his hand, but he shook him off. Now he looked at me and it was like he could see right through me. I wanted to be the silverfish. I wanted to disappear somewhere in the dark.

 

“You believe your brother’s some big hero. I know you dream of being like him. You even gave that amulet to him, cause he’s always so honest with you, ain’t that right?“

 

He pointed at the little golden pendant hanging around Dean’s neck.

 

“There are some things you don’t know about your brother, Sam.“ He squinted his eyes. When he opened them again his look was on Dean. “It was him who insisted on not telling you the truth about the supernatural and the world we live in.“

 

I heard Dean suck in some air. It sounded like a sigh. I could tell he was sad. Everyone could tell he was sad.

 

“Every time he asks me not to take you with on the hunt, cause he thinks you’re too small and too weak for that. And he…“ Dad lifted his hand. “All that time he never told me to stop. Never!“ He was standing so close to Dean now that he could grab his arm. “So stop blaming me for something you wanted, too. I’m not the bad person here, understood!“

 

Dad let go of him, turned around, and left the kitchen. When the door slammed shut with a loud thump, I felt tears gathering behind my eyes. I squinted them a few times, banishing the tears, but at some point they didn't let me push them back any longer. They wanted to run down my cheeks. Dean put his arms around my shoulders. I instantly that it wasn't my real brother anymore, holding me, but the other Dean.

 

“Don’t cry, Sammy,“ he whispered. “That’s just how it is.“ And then: “Let’s make those pancakes, yeah?“

 

Nothing was all right. Nothing. There was something so unexplainable hanging in the air, something that was beyond my world.

 

When a little later the door opened again and Dad came in, I realized that there were also two Dads. And that this one, the one that tousled my hair while passing me, was the one I knew and liked. It would have been so easy to forget what had happened.

 

Even when it was only the other Dean, I still wished he wouldn't let go of me, but he did to help Dad.

 

“Do we have any butter left? They taste better with butter.“

 

“There should be some in the fridge.“

 

Dean instantly jumped up.

 

“Here!“

 

The whole thing was so wrong and we still all played along.

 

Dad swirled the eggs so precisely that I imagined they were little heads.

 

“I didn’t wanna get so angry earlier.“ He nudged me before returning to stir the dough. “Dean’s right. You can’t understand some things. The family business. Hunting things, saving people.“ He was stirring faster and faster. The eggbeater was hitting the bowl’s walls. “And about that other thing… all grown-ups do that, Sammy, even kings. There’s nothing wrong about that, right, Dean?“

 

My brother nodded. I couldn't see his eyes, because he was doing a good job looking away.

 

He also seemed to expect an answer from me. I still didn't understand what he meant. In my head I imagined a king in a red velvet coat, riding to a hunt with his entourage. I nodded anyway.

 

“We’re a family. You, Dean, and I. You understand, Sammy.“ His eyes were so intense. “This family is the only thing you can count on.“ He paused before going on. “And you do wanna belong to this family, don’t you?“

 

When I nodded again it felt wrong all the same time.

 

We were working in silence, hand in hand. When the pancakes were ready and standing on the table, we ate together alone. I had a hart time swallowing, for my mouth was so dry. There was a shroud covering the world, choking any kind of normalcy. As though this wasn't our life, as though we were only playing it.

I was glad when it was over and Dad lay down on the sofa and I could finally go upstairs to my room. Not even the thought of calculus or Hester could really distract me.

 

 

***

 

When the sun already turned gold, I couldn't help it any longer and sneaked back downstairs. Dad was still lying on the kitchen bench and sleeping. His even breathing was echoed by the walls.

 

Under no circumstances did I want to wake him, so I tiptoed quietly into the living room. The grass below my feet was softer than a carpet.

 

“Hello?“

 

Nobody answered. When I stepped outside through the crack, the damp air stood against me like a brick wall.

The air smelled different, like a coming storm in a way. Dean was right. There would be rain, even when I couldn't make out a single cloud in the sky yet. Thought, I found Dean. My brother was sitting on a chair by the burnt-out fireplace. I only saw his backside, but the setting sun made his hair look much lighter and it looked like he was on fire.

 

“Dean?“

 

He still didn't react, and while I made a couple of steps towards him, I wondered what to do if he had turned into a werwolf in the end and would attack me. Of course that was bullshit. Nobody transformed into a werwolf in the afternoon, even less when the full moon was already over.

 

“Dean!“ I tried a third time. He only noticed me when I put my hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to me very slowly. I startled, for his eyes were so full of sorrow and red. He had clearly been crying and just as clearly he didn't want me to notice it, so his lips moved to a smile. I had never seen him like that. Never. He pulled the headphones of his Discman from his ears.

 

“Sammy? What you doing out here?“

 

He was pronouncing my name in the wrong way. Far too drawn out, and only now I noticed the bottle in his hand. It was the square bottle of whiskey from our fridge. The day he had been lying on our kitchen table, bleeding, and I had had to stitch him up appeared farer away than a whole lifetime.

 

“I just wanted to check on you.“

 

I was standing in the growing shadow of the house and didn't know what to say.

 

“I’m fine.“

 

“Actually, kids aren't allowed to drink alcohol.“ I pointed at the bottle. “It’s bad for their development.“

 

He regarded the bottle like he needed to think about how it had ended up in his hand, then he shrugged.

Defiantly, he took another sip before lowering his arm.

 

“I stopped feeling anything years ago anyway.“

 

I wasn’t sure whether he actually said that or I only imagined it, because he was talking so quietly.

 

I pushed myself against the outside wall of the house insecurely.

A bird was desperately singing against the setting darkness.

 

“You can learn a thousand times more about life from music than from your beloved math books.“ He tapped on his Discman. No he was talking in a normal volume again. “Did you know that the song Smells Like a Teen Spirit goes back to one of Kurt Cobain’s ex-girlfriends? She wrote it on a wall, cause she thought he smelled like girl deodorant.“ He laughed. “It’s fitting in a way that a song about the longing of meaning is really just a big vanilla scent lie.“ The sun mirrored in his eyes. “Somehow everything’s just a lie.“

 

“Dean…“

 

I grabbed for his hand and was surprised how cold it was. I squeezed it harder to warm it up again.

 

“I sure am the first of us two to die.“

 

I didn’t know why he said that. I only knew that he hurt me with it, but maybe that had been his goal?

 

“Live fast, love hard, die young and make a pretty corpse, that’s what they say, right?“ A part of me was surprised that he was still so coherent, despite the alcohol. “I still want Nivana to be played at my funeral, even when they’re liars, and Led Zeppelin. At least that’s classy.“

 

“You know Dad’ll burn your corpse anyway, right?“ I didn't want him to notice how hard he had hit me. “So it doesn't matter if you die young or old, handsome or torn to pieces and disgusting. He’ll wrap you in linen and burn you on a pyre.“

 

Dean took a sip from his bottle and lifted his shoulders.

 

“Well, then only Nirvana.“

 

The world was blue now and we kept quiet.

 

“I didn’t want that, Sammy, you need to believe me.“

 

All automatically, I wondered what of all the things that had happened he meant, but he already continued.

 

“Dad said he’ll give me some tips on how it works, so I won’t be all clumsy when I wanna be with a woman later. He said it was totally normal for fathers showing their sons. He said that I’ll like it and that it wasn't all that different to hunting practice and I shouldn't worry about it, cause it was only practicing and so it didn't count as gay.“ He swallowed. “He was wrong. I didn't like it. I really didn't want it, Sammy…“

 

Normally — no matter what had happened — when Dean would comfort me, I would forget that I was scared or sad. His words normally were like fireflies during a summer night. But not this time. This time they scared me.

 

I only noticed that I was still holding his hand when he pulled it away.

 

“Dammit, I wanted none of it! Not even hunt.“

 

He threw away the bottle. It missed me only by a few inches before landing in the grass. I flinched.

 

“Don’t you get it, Sam? It’s a curse. You can pray to your angels a hundred times over, but they won’t come to us.“ He shook his head. “People like us, we don’t get to go to heaven. People like us, we only switch hells.“

 

I wanted to disagree or at least hug him, but he didn't let me. I slipped off him like off a dead fish.

 

“You don’t need to worry.“ He had turned back around so I could only see his backside. “He promised he’ll leave you alone. You don’t have Mom’s eyes anyway.“

 

The wind had increased. It pushed down the grass.

 

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot the most important thing. Bobby gave me these prints from the police computer for you.“ He rummaged in the inside pocket of his leather jacket and drew out a couple of creased pages. “Take them already.“

 

I was still all frozen. That Bobby hadn't forgotten me pierced through my reality only very slowly, like honey.

 

“Why did he have to leave that early anyway?“

 

“How would I know?“ He shrugged. “Hunters, and now go.“

 

His voice sounded cold and repellent. He put his headphones back in his ears and shut me out of his world.

 


	16. Chapter 16: The Song of Leaves in the Wind

**Chapter 16: The Song of Leaves in the Wind**

 

I didn’t want to go inside, where Dad was. I didn't want him to wake up and ask questions or yell again.

So I didn’t know where to go. I walked down the driveway. Where only a few hours ago Tess had disappeared in her car and Bobby and everyone else.

 

My feet were walking on by themselves, raising up fine dust. The first clouds covered the sky and announced rain. Didn't matter, I longed for it just as much as the plants and the dust.

 

Although I didn't have any destination, I realized that, with every step, I felt a little bit more free. Maybe it was the house? Maybe the house was haunted? Maybe that was why Hester had disappeared and why Dean was so unhappy and Dad so weird?

Maybe it wasn't even about us? Maybe we only had to leave this place to make everything okay again? As okay as it could get for a Winchester?

 

The sun had sunken so deep that the blue slowly withdrew the colors from the world. Even the birds fell silent one by one and the wind picked up.

I stopped and considered what to do. There was no sense in walking on down the path. What would I do in town?

 

When I looked around I discovered the trunk of a large old oak tree growing on the side of the dusty path. Between its roots I sank down and pulled out the folded pages.

On the first page there was Hester’s face looking at me. Her eyes were as blue as the November sky just before the first frost falls. I recognized the picture. Tess had shown it to me in her yearbook only a few hours ago. The second picture was that of a young woman.

 

_“It’s an automatic process of a long-lasting case of disappearance a portrait of the missing person is constructed, showing what they might look like now.“_

 

I heard Bobby’s voice in my thoughts and had to remind myself that he was a part of the other side, of the people keeping secrets from me.

 

Apart from that, there wasn't so much new in the report. Hester Evans had disappeared one day, probably run away and never returned. Though there were witnesses, who claimed they’d seen her, at the bus station to Detroit, on the highway to the Canadian border, everywhere and nowhere, none of those traces had proved to be useful. After a couple of years they had been filed away. Hester’s family had moved away, because nobody could stay in such a place, nobody. Everyone understood. Only I knew of the bruises, the tears, and the diary. Only I knew, but I was just as alone as she had used to be.

 

I wanted to fold back the pages, the wind pulling at them so angrily, as my eyes scurried across the date. Hester had disappeared on the 15th of August 1983. Tonight was the tenth anniversary of her disappearance.

Just when I started thinking about what that could mean, bright spotlights of a car blinded me.

Tess?

Impossible, she was at her mother’s wedding.

Bobby?

Maybe. Maybe there was no case after all. Maybe he had come back to see me? My heart skipped a beat and I quickly stood up and returned to the road. With a scrunching sound the car stopped next to me in the sand and a door was opened. When the dust thinned out, disappointment spread inside me. It wasn't Bobby’s car. It was the blue Ford.

 

“Sam… what a surprise.“

 

Although the car’s spotlights were still blinding me, I still recognized the voice.

 

I shrugged. What was I supposed to answer to that?

 

“Gordon? I thought you had that case and had to leave.“ I tried not to show my insecurity. I didn't want to be alone in the woods with him. But he was a friend of my father’s and a hunter. I didn't have to be scared. “Where are Bobby and your friend Jack?“

 

“Shhh.“ Gordon put a finger to his lips and beckoned me to keep quiet. “You hear that?“

 

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but still nodded.

 

“I haven’t heard a cuckoo in years.“

 

Now I heard him call from afar, too. Only a note in the song of leaves in the wind.

 

“Did you know that cuckoos put their eggs in other bird’s nests?“ Although the beginning darkness blurred his outlines, I could clearly feel his eyes on me. “When the cuckoo hatches it starts to push its siblings out of the nest. It kills them one after the other.“ He shook his head. “And the crazy thing is that the bird parents don’t notice it. They don’t see that they raised a cuckoo.“

 

“Hm.“

 

I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. Gordon surely hadn't come back to talk about birds with me, had he?

 

“You know, Sammy, once we checked in at the hotel, I realized that I forgot my gun in your house, and I really like that thing.“ He smiled. “Bobby and Jack keep watch on the town and try to find out where the vampire nest is located. To be honest, they don’t even know I drove back.“

 

He turned to the car’s door and opened it.

 

“Come, get in. I can give you a lift back.“

 

“No, no, I wanna keep walking a little more. I like being outside.“

 

There was something in his smile that made my heart beat faster, that whispered at me that I should run away as long as I still could. But he was a family friend and my legs didn't listen to me.

 

“I wouldn't get inside a stranger’s car, too. Hunter or not. I mean, all that could happen.“ He leaned back in the cabin of the car, pushed the food wrappings off the passenger’s seat and opened the glove box. “And we’re so far away from everything, nobody would even hear or see anything.“

 

“I’m not even alone… Dean’s very close.“ Even in my own ears that story sounded made-up. “We’re playing hide-and-seek.“

 

I thought he would draw a gun, but he didn’t. Instead he reached out a box of candies to me.

 

“No, thanks,“ I shook my head.

 

He put it back into the darkness.

 

“You’re an odd little boy. You walk alone through the woods in the night and there are these stories about you.“

 

“Stories?“

 

I took a step back. A branch broke under my feet. I started swaying and only with effort I could keep my balance.

Something wet hit me in the face. I flinched, then realized that it was only water.

I laughed and wiped a strand of hair out of my face. Dean said that sometimes you laugh when you actually want to cry.

 

“I thought that wouldn’t work.“ Gordon wasn't laughing. His gaze was impenetrable. “Your father sure bathed you in a baby bathtub full of holy water, without it even helping.“

 

“ _Run away!“_ the voice inside me shouted. _“You stupid child, run!“_ But it was too late. The hand came far too quickly, like a snake striking in the darkness. Before I even realized what was happening, he had a hold around my throat, squeezing with both hands.

 

“You never wondered why a demon came to your bed of all places?“

 

His face was a mask of anger and struggle. Spit ran out of the corners of his mouth.

 

Dean had said that demons were drawn by the souls of innocent children.

 

I tried to twist out of his hold, but it was tight as a vise. I tried to kick him, to bite, but he was still holding me like I was nothing, and I cursed the fact that I was so small and slender.

 

“Everywhere you show up you guys pull a trace of destruction and blood behind you. Where you are people die.“

 

Black spots were dancing in front of my eyes and air became something I longed for as much as never before in my life.

 

“Please… don’t…,“ I rattled, the corners of my sight pulsing in red. I would have begged for my life, if I had the strength to. Slowly, my arms sank down. The realization that I would really die here felt surreal and just unfair. Above me, right next to Gordon’s face, there were glowing stars.

 

_“Can you see me?“_ I thought. _“Is there anyone who sees me? Who cares about what’s happening?“_

 

Just before it all turned black he let go of my throat and fresh air streamed into me. I sucked it in like Popeye did it with spinach. I sucked it in like a desert the rain.

 

Only our twin breath filled the world. His rough by struggle, mine desperately keeping hold of life.

 

“I know who you really are, so stop this phase already and show your real face!“

 

Gordon had the small silver gun pointed at me that he had claimed to have forgotten in our house. I wrapped my arms around my knees.

 

“Please don’t… I’m just a boy.“

 

While I was rocking back and forth, I tried to combine the words. “Don’t, please… I’m just a boy.“ “Don’t! I’m just a boy, please…“

 

It made him angry. He slapped me in the face with his flat hand. The pain shot through my body like a bolt.

 

“You’re the damn prince of hell. You’re their chosen one, who’ll bring the apocalypse on the world. The devil wants to rise from the dead in your body. So stop pulling this puppy-eye thing!“ Again he hit me, harder this time. “Call them! Call your demons, use your powers.“ He released the safety catch of his gun. “Do something or I swear I’ll shoot you!“

 

I would have done anything to stay alive. Everything. The life that was pounding through my veins in red made me. I would have even called demons, if I had the power to, but nobody came to help me. None of the hell’s beings, no angels, not even my family. I was completely alone. Only the leaves of the trees were shaking, when I hid my face in my hands so I wouldn't see what happened next.

I waited for the shot that never came.

 

“Dammit!“

 

When I opened my eyes again, Gordon had lowered his gun.

 

“I’ll sure regret this one someday…“

 

“I’m only a kid.“

 

It was a mere whisper. I was surprised how rough my own voice sounded, as though it wasn't even mine.

 

“I’ll keep watch on you.“ He briefly pointed at me and then got back into his car. “And if you make one mistake, I’ll be there and end this. You understand?“

 

He started the car and left me on the cold gravel ground. Of course, he didn't drive up to the house, but straight towards the highway. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. The burn in my throat, the tears, anything.

Above me the cold stars were still glowing. The branches of the oak tree were whipping in the wind. A storm was coming.

 


	17. Chapter 17: The Devil Told You

**Chapter 17: The Devil Told You**

 

I didn’t know how long I had been lying on the cold ground. Above me nothing but leaves shaking in the wind, below me the forest ground and even deeper Hell, but at some point I stood up and began to walk. I walked on and on. Every breath burnt in my sore throat and tears blurred my view. Maybe that was why I couldn't see the path before me? But maybe it had just gotten too dark. The pale stars piercing through the sky like needles were swallowed by black clouds.

I didn’t know where I was running, but when I turned around a corner, I ran into a black shadow.

It didn't matter! Nothing mattered!

 

“Sammy? Where’ve you been? I was so worried about you.“

 

His hands grabbing for me were soft as velvet. This time it was me pushing him away.

 

“Is it true what they say about me?!“

 

A lightning bolt tore the world into pieces. For a moment, it was so bright that I had to close my eyes. When the darkness returned, it was more complete than ever before.

 

“Oh god, Sammy…“ He had seen me in the flashing light, too. The tears, the swollen face… I must have looked horrible. Again he tried to hug me. This time almost in panic. “What happened? Who did this to you? I swear I’m gonna kill that pig.“

 

I drew away from him.

 

“Is it true what they say about me, Dean?!“

 

I was shouting now. Shouting against the rustling of the leaves and the distant grumble of thunder. As though he understood me better, if I’d just speak louder.

 

But all that came back from him was silence.

 

“Is it true that I’m the chosen one of Hell and supposed to start the end of the world?“

 

Another bolt. Again, the thunder was far away.

 

We were dancing in a choreography none of us knew. Now I was the one coming closer again. The one grabbing for his leather jacket.

 

“Tell me!“

 

“Who told you about that?“ His face was pale as a ghost in the light of the lightning and his eyes big as puddles the light of the stars fell into.

 

When I looked into them I knew that it was true, even when he didn't answer. How stupid to hope that would have all been just a stupid misunderstanding. That Dean could just take me in his arms and tell me how crazy Gordon was, and then all would be, all would be all right.

 

“The devil told me!“

 

I wiped the tears from my eyes. I had hauled it at him without thinking. For it fitted so well and also because I wanted to hurt Dean. But when I looked into his face, I found that it had changed. Dean was scared. Never had my brother looked at me like that and in that moment I realized that something between us had shattered forever.

 

“Demons lie, Sammy. Everyone knows that.“

 

Even his voice had changed. It was barely more than a whisper in the raging storm.

 

“How long have you known?“

 

He said nothing. Looked to the ground.

 

_“Forever,“_ every part of his body seemed to whisper.

 

That was the oil that was poured in the hellfire burning within me since I was born.

 

“Demons lie?“ I slapped his hands away. Ash and magma ran out of my eyes. “You’re the one lying! You lie the minute you open your mouth. Dad’s right, you’re the most dishonest person in the whole world!“

 

“Sammy…“

 

Even in my flaming anger I was aware that he wasn't the only one who had lied to me. Dad, Bobby… They all knew about it and hadn't said a thing, and still, Dean’s betrayal weighed the heaviest. Maybe because I had expected it the least.

 

Again he tried to grab for me.

 

“Listen to me!“

 

“No! Don’t touch me. I hate all of you!“ When I wanted to bat away his hand, I hit him in the face. It was strangely satisfying and somehow terrible all the same to have hurt him. “I hate you!“ I burst into a sob. “Of all the people I know I hate you the most.“

 

He said nothing. I swallowed.

 

“I wish you were dead, Dean! I wish I was dead!“ Once more, my hand hit him, this time his chest. It felt like punching a tree. “I wish I was never even born!“

 

There was a difference. It was more final, more absolute. Like a piece of paper you crumple and tear apart before you throw it in the bin.

 

I didn’t wait for an answer. I started running. The rain was falling.

 

***

 

It wasn't easy to shake Dean off. I probably only managed to, because he stopped where he was for a couple of seconds, as if frozen, until he eventually started moving. Maybe I only managed to, because I knew the woods around our house like a green collar better than him.

 

My steps on the forest ground, Dean who was calling my name, and the raindrops splashing on the dry earth like applause, it all built the soundscape of my very own horror movie.

 

Only when I sat down in the dark behind a tree and listened to my far too fast breathing, I noticed that there weren't any other steps anymore, and no calls, but only the rain soaking my clothes and my own heartbeat. I was alone. Really alone. As alone as a human on earth could ever be.

 

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. The rain felt like needles and all the hair of my body stood up.

 

It was so cold that my body didn't want to stop shaking and the sultry heat of the past weeks appeared like a lost paradise I had been banished from. Where was I supposed to go? I had nothing with me. No clothes, no food, no money, no nothing.

 

The lightning bolts now came more regularly, too, and the following thunder growled ominously like a mad animal. If only I at least had my stuff with me. In my mind I saw my calculous book on Hester’s desk and felt the comfort it promised.

 

I could never go back again. Never! Not even to get my stuff. If I went back to the road, Dean would sure find me. He wasn't stupid. He knew that our driveway was the only way to get to both the house and the town center and with that the highway, too.

He would wait for me. I didn't want to see him. Never again. He had been lying to me and betrayed me. I wiped my eyes again and swallowed down the bitter feeling of disappointment where it raged on in my stomach.

 

There was something he didn't know. I had stared at Hester’s map so often that before my inner eyes the fine lines on the white piece of paper appeared. So I knew that there were other ways out of here, too. Dirt tracks through the woods that were so narrow that nobody noticed them. I also knew of the other houses. Hunting huts and former farm houses that had been abandoned a long time ago, that nature had been claiming them back bit by bit. And I knew of the old power plant by the Lake of Shining Waters. The place Dean had forbidden me to go to ever again, for it was too dangerous.

 

I had been there only once and regarded the red brick building from a safe distance. The river was even more torrential there than it was near our house, which was probably because it was dammed by the concrete wall the square building throned upon that had turned brittle over the years.

Inside the wall there were turbines. I knew that from the engineering book I had read in my former school, and also that those turbines were driven by the falling water and produced electricity. Whether they still worked, I couldn't tell, only that the water was shooting through the openings in the wall like a waterfall and falling down into the basin more than ten meters below. Like a rainbow haze the steam had hovered over the water and it had been so loud, as though the swoosh drowned all other sounds.

Although everything had been so peaceful, something, maybe a foreboding, had scared me, and that although it had been broad daylight. So I had walked back again and hadn't thought about the power plant anymore ever since.

The thought of going back there in the dark of all things was anything but inviting and drove dark shudders of adrenalin through my bloodstreams. Then again, the power plant was the only place within a five mile radius where I could cross the river without getting wet. I looked to the sky and corrected myself. Without getting even more wet. I had to reach the other side of the river, if I wanted to reach the highway and get out of town.

 

The growl tearing me out of my thoughts was so close now that I could feel the storm’s breath in the back of my neck.

A lightning bolt!

The air smelled of electric charge. I began to count. I had to make a decision. When I reached three thunder made the earth tremble.

I clenched my jaws. The old power plant was the best possible choice and it was stupid of me to be scared by something as banal as ghosts, especially if you were actually Hell’s chosen one.

 

I could hide and warm up there. I could rest and wait for a new day to begin. Then I would know for sure what to do. Wasn't it always that a new morning brought new possibilities?

 

Although it was so dark and no starlight showed me the way, I still found my way. My eyes had gotten used to the darkness and I wondered if that was maybe part of my demonic legacy. Maybe every evil and bad thing I had ever done and ever thought could be traced back to the fact that I wasn't a real human being?

 

During the night the forest looked so different. I flinched twice, for I believed to see someone behind me when the bright lighting tore apart the darkness. Someone with hands of bones and knifes.

 

Every time the lightning retreated and left only darkness, it was even more impervious than before. But even blacker than the night was the old brick building standing against the cloud-covered sky.

The water falling down into the depth was screaming curses in a foreign language and the spray splashing up mingled with the falling rain. The world was made of wetness, darkness, and thunder.

 

When I reached the railing I stopped for a moment. To get into the building I had to go over the iron runway atop the dam wall. During the brief moment of brightness neither the runway, nor the protecting railing looked too trustworthy. I made one step after another and had almost made it half way over the abyss. Below me the water was gurgling viciously. One more step and then another one. I forced myself onwards.

Done!

 

When I reached the door, my heart did a relieved jump, especially as the handle under my hand gave in and I got inside.

With a thump the heavy iron door fell shut and, as though I would have put on headphones, everything was suddenly much quieter. I settled down next to one of the huge machines and drew my legs close to my body. Now that the tension fell off me all the other emotions cam back, hunger, coldness, and above all that damn loneliness. Just like those stupid tears came back, too, of which I thought I would have already used up all of them. I wiped my eyes once again and tried to curl myself up as much as possible to sleep.

I didn’t manage to. The ground was hard and it was so cold. I wrapped my arms around my torso, imagining that someone was hugging me. Someone who liked me, who told me that everything was going to be all right and that I didn't need to worry, but there was no one.

 

_“What was it like when I was born?“_

 

I didn’t know when I had asked Dean that question. I must have been very little.

 

“You were born to this world in a sea of blood and tears.“ He had cocked his head and smirked. “And you had those hairs all over like a peach. At first I thought they’ve swapped my bother with a baby ape.“

 

Only years after, I had stumbled across the fact that baby apes weren't born in human hospitals and that big brothers weren’t supposed to be in the labor room. Dean couldn't even have been there when I was born, so I had asked Dad.

 

“What was it like when I was born? Was Mom happy?“

 

Dad had looked up from his newspaper he had been searching for a strange phenomenon only briefly.

 

“You were in a hurry.“ He shrugged. “Dean didn't come before three days after his calculated birth date, but you…“ He sighed. “When I reached the hospital, you were already in her arms and sleeping.“

 

Something in what he said made his face turn soft. Only briefly, then he looked like the Dad I knew again and turned his pages. In that moment I realized two things.

One: Everyone who was there when I was born was dead. Well, of course not the doctors or the nurses, but all the really important people. All those who could remember. And two: since the day of my birth the fact ran through my life that Dad missed all the important things in my life, and nothing would ever change about that.

 

Dad… Dean…

Why was I even having those thoughts? My eyes burnt when I rubbed them. They weren't even my real family. Probably, they were happy that they were finally rid of me and that I couldn't make their life any worse. I pulled my legs even closer to myself. I wasn't even a real child.

Again, a wave of sadness overran me and I tried to find comfort in the fact that at least some demons from Hell thought I was important, when no human being could love me, but it didn't work. Not even they had come to save me. I was alone. All alone.

 


	18. Chapter 18: Understanding How Life Works

**Chapter 18: Understanding How Life Works**

 

When I woke up, I wasn't even sure if I had slept at all. If anything it could have been only single moments between my troubled thoughts, my wildly pounding heart, and the continuous shaking of my body. Then again, the surroundings had changed. Had gotten even darker and at the same time lightning bolts outside the window were dancing much more frequently now and thunder answered almost immediately with a thump so loud, as though the world was being torn apart. The gurgling of the water also sounded much more demanding now.

 

I stood up and tried to push blood back into my legs. Everything hurt. The twisted tendons of my muscles, my bones that were so frozen that I was scared they would shatter if I made one wrong movement, and especially my swollen throat and my face. When my fingers cautiously felt for the spot where Gordon’s hands had been, tears welled up again.

Through the window I saw that the water level had risen by at least one meter. Maybe I had been sleeping for longer than I had thought after all.

How late it would be? I wished I had a watch.

Ah what the hell! I wished this night would have never happened. I wished I had at least a blanket. I felt so cold that the only thing I wanted was this to stop. No matter the cost.

 

Maybe it wasn't so smart to stay here. If the water rose even more, it would turn dangerous to go back over the catwalk.

I cautiously opened the door, but the wind tore it out of my hands. Rain and coldness whipped inside. It cost all of my strength to close it again.

So much to my choices.

I went deeper inside the darkness of the building. Maybe I would find anything, a canvas or a thin wooden panel to use it as a shelter from the rain.

Behind the big turbine the concrete floor turned into wooden boards. The room was larger than it had looked like from outside. But maybe that impression was only made by all the alcoves and spurs in the walls where strange machines were still resting, making their flickering shadows dance in the lightning. I found an oil-glazed work glove and immediately dropped it again. Just when I wanted to turn around to curl up in my original spot, I discovered something that made me halt. In one corner there was a light blue backpack. Without the lightning I wouldn't have seen it. I felt my way in the dark that had followed the light. When the next lightning bolt came, I had reached it. It was dusty and felt raw when I opened it, as though it had stood there for a very long time. Two thoughts at once shot through my mind, dueling each other like the lightning outside did with the thunder. In the flashing light I could read the sewed-in name tag, even when the blue color had almost faded. I knew that name. I would recognize it anywhere. Hester Evans. Why was her backpack here?

The second thought that pushed everything else away was the thin woolen blanket I slowly pulled out of the backpack.

Maybe there were angels and a god, who loved me in spite of everything, but maybe I just slowly lost my mind.

I needed to have that blanket! Everything inside me longed for tearing off my wet clothes and cuddling myself into its promise of comfort and warmth.

 

I didn’t notice the floorboards bending under my steps, the way the wild water below me paused in expectation. I didn’t hear the creaking and the splitting of wood. I only noticed the fall and then the dive into the cold blackness that hit me like a knife and pushed all air out of my lungs.

 

The waves crashed together over my head. I instinctively tried to pedal back to the surface, but my soaked clothes pulled me down into the depths. The drift tore at me, whirled me around and spit me out again. I lost any sense of orientation. I stopped knowing long ago where was up and where was down, so I wasn't even sure if I was swimming upwards or really deeper and deeper down. I only knew that it was dark and that my lungs were burning, as though someone had poured gasoline over them and set them on fire.

 

I paddled with my arms against the pull. I screamed and the last bubbles of air escaped my mouth, and then, finally, finally I broke through the surface of the water and sucked in the night air, coughing and gasping.

Never had I tasted something so delicious. I didn't have too much time to orientate myself. Above me lightning bolts were still wincing. The water had dragged me along quite some distance. Then the waves started crashing down over my head again.

When I fought my way back up the next time, I realized that the drift was pulling me further and further towards the dam wall.

 

“Help!“

 

Why was I even calling? Who was supposed to hear me? The only thing that happened was water getting in my mouth and nose. That I choked on it and coughed.

 

I tried to get a hold on the brickwork, but my wet fingers didn't manage to. The drift kept pulling at me mercilessly.

It took endless moments until my panic-soaked mind realized that the drift was pulling me like the drain of a bathtub, towards the outlet shaft in the dam wall. I screamed and kicked about. Once again my body released all the energy I possessed and I began, wildly but sadly to no avail, paddling against the drift.

 

“No, no, no…“

 

For several seconds, I actually managed to grab onto the brick wall, as though destiny loved thrilling moments like this one. I was already so close to the spot where the water was falling down into the depths that the sound of falling water even drowned out the thunder. Around me broken branches were floating around, and something else. Another bolt. I believed to see Hester’s sailboat, but maybe it was just my mind vanishing. The colorful sail was jumping before my eyes, just slow enough to notice it. Then a large branch hit me in the hip, I lost my hold and an iron hand instantly pulled me down.

 

Deeper and deeper I sank towards the ground. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see myself get pulled under water and through the outlets of the wall and cut into pieces by the turbines. But then I felt something solid in my back. The drift had pushed me against a protective grating that was seemingly placed in front of the outlets. The need for oxygen filled every fibre of my being. It burnt up my nerves and froze all my senses, and yet I was glad. My next to last thought to the world of the living was about how lucky I was not to be shredded into pieces. Drowning, though, almost appeared to me like a good thing. More peaceful somehow and less painful.

My sight turned darker and darker, as though someone had dimmed down the light of a screen. Once again, I mobilized all the strength I had and tried to push myself off the grating. It didn’t work. No matter how hard I was floundering and tossing, I didn't move a bit. Instead my hand grabbed into a bunch of small branches that had gotten stuck in the grating as well. Branches, long golden hair, pieces of clothing, and a diffuse gleam. The realization increased in the same amount as my consciousness decreased.

 

Hester… I had found her.

Her bones changed, built skin and outlines. I blinked and her face was so close to me. She was as beautiful as I had always imagined angels to be. I didn’t feel any fear anymore. No more pain, nothing.

Her blonde hair was floating around her body like a halo. She was wearing her rainbow t-shirt, just like on the picture in the yearbook. Her eyes were rain and when she reached out her hand and touched me, I forgot everything I had wanted. I didn’t need any air, I didn't need to try to swim to the surface any longer. Everything inside me became calm and wide, like an ocean by night. I felt her sadness streaming into me, becoming mine and making me sink to the ground like lead.

I closed my eyes and let go of my life. My last thought was a mix of missing and amazement. I wished I hadn't argued with Dean. I wished I could tell him that he wasn't the worst person in the whole world after all and that I loved him. I wished that it all would have ended differently.

Funny how you try to understand for years how life worked, and then it was suddenly over. I used to think that I would hang onto my life more. Now it almost seemed okay for me to die.

 

In the blackness there was a jerk. Something was pulling at me. Grabbed my hand and overcame the pull of the water and gravity. It pulled me further and further up. The moment my head broke through the waves and I gasped and coughed for air, the sadness fell off me like a dream and the glowing disappeared.

 

“Sammy!“ He pulled me against himself. He shook my body, as though I was a lifeless puppet and not me. “Don’t you do shit like that! Come on, breathe!“

 

He moved my head to the side and everything came back: the pain that streamed through every fibre of my body, the need to breathe, the need to live.

 

I spit water. I whimpered. I hadn't realized how much of it I had inhaled. I hadn't realized that it would hurt that much to gag it back out of my lungs again.

 

“It’s all right, Sammy.“ He was holding my face, his thumbs stroking over my wet cheeks. “You just never get to let go of my hand again, understood?“

 

I nodded into the thunderstorm night and then buried my face in his shoulder. I was too exhausted to say or think anything. I was kneeling on the ground, shaking by coldness, and was busy enough with just breathing in and out. He was hugging me very hard and whispered words I didn’t understand, for they were so quiet and the water so loud. I rather would have crawled into him. Because he had saved me and because he was so warm and I was so cold.

 

“Hester… is dead.“ My teeth were clattering.

 

Everything was cold. So cold.

Now he nodded.

 

“Don’t ever do that again, Sammy. You hear me? Never again.“

 

He stroked my hair once more. His breath grazed my skin and his smile was only inches away from my face. Raindrops had gotten stuck in his long lashes. Then he let me sink back to the ground almost tenderly, straightened up, and leaned against the railing.

 

“I’ll get you home.“

 

I tried, in spite of my shivering, to smile back. I wanted to sit up, but in that moment everything happened at once. There was this awful thump. A sound that shot through one’s bits and bones like fingernails on a chalkboard.

The railing broke away. Dean stood in the air almost vertical. A lightning bolt flashed. That was the moment time stood still.

 

“Dean!“

 

I knew he must fall, for that were the laws of gravity, and yet I counted on the belief that they didn't apply to him, simply because he was my brother and could do anything, and because nothing could ever, ever happen to him.

 

“Dean!“

 

Maybe I wasn't even screaming his name. Maybe I was only thinking it? As frozen and paralyzed as I was?

 

He didn’t even look surprised but like the whole thing was part of a larger plan I didn't understand.

He moved his mouth, called out something, but the water’s noise carried his words away.

 

Then he fell.

 

“Deeeeeean!“

 

The water below us screamed so loudly that I didn't even hear the splash when he hit it.

 

When I leaned over the edge of the wall, it was like looking into a big black mouth. I couldn't make out anything in the darkness and every time a new bolt flamed up, there was only dark wild water.

 

“Dean! Dean! Dean!“

 

I screamed his name in the rhythm of my heartbeat until the rising tears choked down my voice.

 

Gordon was right. Inside me there was only darkness and hellfire. Because I lived my mom had to die and now I had even killed my brother, the only person who knew what I was like and yet searched for me and saved me.

 

“Dean…“

 

My tears mingled with raindrops before they fell into the depths.

 

I couldn't believe what had happened, so I sat there and waited for the miracle that didn’t happen.


	19. Chapter 19: The Beat of My Heart

**Chapter 19: The Beat of My Heart**

 

I had no idea how long I cowered by the abyss and stared down into the depth. The thunder started to disappear and also the intensity of the rain had decreased, but all that didn't matter anymore.

I only knew that I had jumped up at some point. I stumbled across the narrow iron catwalk, below the water was still gurgling angrily, then I reached the safe shore and followed the path through the woods that would lead me to the lower end of the dam.

 

His name was the beat of my heart and the sound of my steps. In the dark I missed a branch, couldn't keep my balance on the swampy ground and fell. After I had rolled a few meters down, I climbed to my feet and went on. I wiped my dirty hands on my pants. I had no time left, nor any brain capacities to fell any more pain.

 

Another lightning bolt winced through the sky. It took the count to five now for the thunder to follow.

 

It was strange what you thought about when you lost the most important thing in your life and you only realized how precious it had been and how stupid you had been to take it for granted the moment when you couldn't get it back.

 

I held onto a loose root to be able to walk down an especially steep spot, thinking about how Dean had taught me how to swim. It had been at one of those hotels that had a pool in the parking lot and I had been very little, at most six years old.

 

The fewest hotels we had ever stayed at had a pool. I still knew how excited I had been and that I kept urging, “When can we finally go swimming?“ and how Dean had taken me back to bed and spread the sheets over both of us, as though it was a parachute.

 

“Tomorrow morning, Sammy. It’s the middle of the night.“

 

I still knew how disappointed I had been when we finally stood by the pool. Me in my underwear, him in his shorts, because we didn't even own something like swimming trunks. I still knew how Dean had taken the chair floating in the water out of it and said that it didn't matter that the water was so green. We could shower later.

I still knew how much fun it had been to play in the water.

 

“Come on, Sammy. Now try to swim towards me.“

 

I also still knew how proud I had been when I had actually managed to swim three strokes in a row without cheating with my feet by walking on the ground.

 

The path I followed led away from the river. The noise of the water became quieter and all inside me fought against following it. At the same time I knew that it was the only chance to get to the lower basin. The basin I would maybe find my brother in. It was so dark. If only the path was lighted by the starlight.

 

I also had to think of the play a few months ago. The play I had wished so much that Dad would come to see it and watch me the way all the other parents did with their children.

 

“You think he’ll be here on time?“

 

I had tried not to be as excited as I felt, while I dressed into Danny Lohmann’s cat costume and threw a scrutinizing look into the hotel room’s mirror. Dean sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched me.

 

“You gonna paint me a nose?“

 

I handed him the black make up pen and he looked at me questioningly with wide eyes.

 

“Well, a cat’s nose.“ I turned back to the mirror and fumbled with my cat ears. “After all I’m THE cat of the Bremen Town Musicians.“

I pointed at my costume, as though I was a famous star and he an unknowing doorman who didn't know that. “Mrs. Clearwater also says that the cat is really important. It scares the bandits the most.“

 

“Close your eyes.“

 

I obeyed.

 

“I’m so lucky that Danny Lohmann broke his arm.“ I sighed, then I realized how weird that sounded. “Well, of course I’m sorry for him and all, but I’m so glad that Mrs. Clearwater asked me and that although I’ve been at that school for only three weeks and the class practiced the play for months.“

 

Now Dean sighed.

 

“How am I supposed to paint you when you keep talking and fidgeting around?“

 

I pressed my lips together so no further words could come out of my mouth. Now it was dark and quiet. The pen tickled my skin.

 

“All right, done.“

 

I opened my eyes and looked at my mirror image.

 

“That looks like a toddler painted me. The whiskers are way too thick.“

 

“You kept moving too much.“

 

“But Mary Shelly’s mother…“

 

He tossed the make up pen on the counter where it rolled down and fell into the sink.

 

“I’m just not Mary Shelly’s mother, okay!“ He had gotten loud. “I just didn't get a class in painting cat faces, sewing costumes or backing rainbow muffins.“

 

Before I could reply anything, he began to wipe at my face with a towel whose corner he had licked.

 

“Then just try again.“

 

I didn’t say anything else. Not even that I wished he would use water. I didn't want him to get angry.

 

“You know, Sammy…“ When he took the pen again, his voice was all soft again. “Dad’s always very busy. Hunting monsters and all.“ He straightened up and eyed his work, pleased. “I mean, would you be able to explain to a mother that her kid’s dead, cause Dad couldn't chase the monster that had it, cause he had to go to your school play?“

 

Slowly, I got used to the cat face Dean had painted and didn't find it as bad as the first one, even when Mary Shelly’s mother probably could have done it a thousand times better.

 

“Is Dad hunting a monster right now that kidnaps and kills kids? What kind of monster is it? Is it a Rugaru?“

 

“Not exactly. It’s rather a general truth about the world.“ He sat down on the edge of the bathtub beside me and put his hand on mine. “Every person is loved by someone, Sammy, and every monster Dad hunts has it in for someone’s life.“ He shrugged. “I just wanted to say that you shouldn’t be mad at Dad, if he doesn’t come. It’s not cause he doesn't wanna see your play. It’s cause people die, if he doesn’t hunt.“

 

“Okay.“

 

I nodded tentatively, but knowing something was one thing, but the feeling behind it was another.

 

When the curtain opened and I looked into all the happy mom and dad faces in the audience and found the only gap was where my family was supposed to sit, a gap like a punched-out tooth in a jaw, there was a wave of disappointment and sadness going through me that was so huge that it pulled my feet away under my body.

 

“Why you looking so sad, Cat?“ Mary Shelly repeated for the third time.

_“Say something!“_ her blue eyes under her dog mask seemed to scream, but I couldn’t. The spotlights blinded me. Quiet murmurs set in.

I took a breath.

 

“Only because I preferred sitting behind the oven rather than hunting mice my mistress wanted to drown me.“ I didn't need to play the tears, nor the anger. “I will go to Bremen with you and become a Town Musician.“ Now I turned to the audience. “For we find something better than death everywhere.“

 

“I think that was the best interpretation of the Cat I’ve ever seen.“

 

All the other kids were welcomed by their parents afterwards, and not by their brothers. Mary Shelly’s dad even brought her a rose, as though she was a big star.

 

“Leave me alone…“

 

I turned away. He still followed me.

 

“Hey, where you going?“

 

“Back to the hotel.“

 

“But don’t you guys do something together now?“ He pointed at my classmates behind him, who were posing for their parents’ cameras. “I dunno, eat the cake that wasn’t sold or take a group picture?“

 

“Who cares!“

 

I pulled the cat ears off my head and threw them to the ground and just left him there.

 

And now of all times, on the dark path in the woods by night, his sad face when he had looked after me haunted me. No every single _“You’re not Dad! I wish he was here and not you!“_ I had thrown at him back then haunted me, and every single _“This doesn’t taste good“_ when he had cooked and I had pushed the plate away. Every _“You don’t even know how to do that“_ when he had tried to help my with my homework. Every memory where I had pushed him away from me pierced into me like a thorn and drove new tears into my eyes.

 

“Dean!“

 

Nobody could love me the way I was. Only Dean. I wished I could tell him how sorry I was. I wished I could take him into my arms.

 

The path finally came to an end and I reached the lower basin. I couldn't see anything. The wall towering in front of me was at best guessable. I looked away and instead across the whirled up water that was still gurgling angrily before it streamed on calmly after a few meters. Black mingled with black and it was as though the whole world only knew one color or as though I was blind.

 

If there was a Dean here, if his body had gotten stuck by the cliffs and he floated in the water, then I couldn't see him.

I walked along the shore, feeling my way with my feet. There! No, just a branch. My heart was still beating a club beat.

And what if the river had dragged him along? Then he could already be anywhere. Then I would never find him. Especially not alive.

 

I made a few steps into the river until the water washed about my hips.

 

“Dean!“

 

I made my hands a cone.

 

No answer.

Rain was still falling. It was still so cold. My teeth still clattered. It was the only sound beside the water’s noise and my beating heart.

 

“This isn't fair!“ I cried into the night. “Give me my brother back!“ I punched the water with my hand. Water from below and from above sloshed onto me. It didn't matter. I couldn't get any wetter.

“Give him back right now!“

 

Silence.

 

“You already have my mom! What d’you want with my brother, too?“

 

Nothing.

 

For a moment, I considered going on, just let it end, but then I made five steps backwards and fell into the wet grass.

I wasn’t meant for heaven. I never had been. If I died, only eternal perdition would wait for me.

 

I had lost Dean. I had lost the only person who had always been by my side and I would never see him again, not even in eternity.

That realization made me start sobbing again. If Dean was with Mom in heaven now? I looked up, but there were only rain clouds and darkness.

 

Everything I knew about Mom I knew because Dean had told me about her. If he was telling things about me in heaven now, too? That he had had to die because he had fallen off the dam wall because of me? That he had had to look after me his whole life and for that had never had the time for things he really wanted to do? And that I had thanked him by being a terrible child?

And how would Mom react? Would she take him in her arms and comfort him? Would she say that she was sorry that she had given birth to me and that they had something in common now, that is to say that I had killed them both?

 

I curled into myself as much as I could and imagined that I would sink deeper and deeper into the wet ground, so deep that I would reach Earth’s core or hell, the place where I belonged. My sobbing didn't want to leave me.

 

“Hey, Sammy, why you crying down the whole forest here?“

 

Something warm touched my shoulder. I tore my eyes open.

 

“Dean!“

 

His wet leather jacket stuck to his body. I couldn't make out his face, but he was there. Instantly, I was on my feet. I buried my face in his arms to be entirely sure that I didn't imagine him. Gun oil, leather, sweat, and also something that I couldn't even grasp but belonged to him like the moon to the stars. It was really him. He was back.

 

“Don’t ever, ever, ever do that again,“ I cried against his chest.

 

“Don’t you ever do that again, Sammy.“

 

I felt his hand in my hair.

 

“No, you!“

 

“No, you!“

 

“Jerk.“

 

“Bitch.“

 

I smiled into the hug and all the same kept crying.

 

When I had been very little I had always believed if I hid my face in Dean’s arms, the world around us would stop existing. That no one could see me, because I could see no one. Now, it only worked for some moments where I would have rather crawled into him, then reality returned.

 

“You should’ve understood two things by now,“ he said. “One, I’m like those weird weeds that people scratch or burn out of their driveways’ seams. And two, I never leave you alone.“ He smiled. “And now let’s bury Hester’s bones and then go back, before Dad rips off our heads.“

 

I nodded into his jacket.

 


	20. Chapter 20: The Place Where All The Souls Go

 

**Chapter 20: The Place Where All The Souls Go**

 

The moon looked down on us through the shreds of thunderstorm clouds.

 

Dean grimaced with every step. He had probably already been injured before he had dived down into the depth again by the dam wall, but there he had managed to hide it better.

 

“You okay?“

 

“Sure, I’m fine.“ He nodded. “I just sprained my leg a little when I fell.“ His hand automatically moved down and when he lifted it again, there was a dark liquid stuck to it. “It’s not all that bad, though.“

 

My eyes followed his hand. I didn't believe that his leg was sprained. I believed it was broken. I should have never allowed him to fetch the bones. Then again, not even a Dean Winchester could walk with a broken leg. I had to be wrong.

 

“You have the gas from the generator?“

 

I nodded and for a moment we both eyed the little bundle we had built up on half-dry branches in the wind shadow of an oak tree.

Strange how little was left of a human being. Just enough to wrap it in her blanket.

Dean took the bottle from me and spread the liquid on the blanket and the backpack. The next moment, his match lighted up and the night turned bright.

 

All automatically, I reached out my hands towards the light, even when it was weird to warm yourself on a fire that was burning human bones. Then I cried again.

 

“I’m so sorry, Sammy.“ His face glowed golden in the flames light. “You’ve been searching her the whole summer and now…“ He shrugged. “I know how much you wished that she’s still alive. That she’s in New York or something, that she’s at uni, got a lot of friends…“

 

I wasn’t thinking of Hester. Not in that moment. Not before he started talking about her. I was such a horrible person. I always only thought of myself.

 

“She was all alone when she died.“ I closed the gap between us. Now her tears belonged to me, after all. “There was no one who pulled her out of the water. There was no one who even looked for her.“ I bit my lip until the pain helped me to think clearer again. In the flames the backpack stewed into black plastic bubbles. “That’s so sad, Dean. That there are people nobody cares about. Nobody cries when they die.“

 

Once more he petted my shoulder.

 

“I was wrong. There is a place beyond heaven and hell where souls go life wounded too much.“

 

“Really?“

 

I don’t know if he only said that, because he was sorry that this afternoon he had claimed that we would definitely end up in hell, but his face appeared so tense while talking, as though he had to invent that place with the power of his mind first. Maybe he was just in great pain.

 

He nodded.

 

“It’s always dark there.“ I shook my head in horror, but he continued. “No, not dark like during the night where you’re scared, but dark like it was before you were born.“

 

I nodded, although I didn't remember anymore what it was like before I had been born.

 

“It’s like being hugged.“ He put his arms around his own body. “By someone who really loves you.“

 

“And then?“ I whispered. “What happens then?“

 

He shrugged.

 

“Then the soul’s wounds start healing.“ He swallowed and his voice sounded throaty. Almost as though he was crying, but it was only the rain. “And then you find comfort.“

 

Once again I buried my face in the rough wet fabric of his t-shirt, but its magic was used up. I couldn't hide from the world anymore. Only cry.

 

“Shhhh,“ he said and I felt his fingers in my hair. “It’s gonna be all right.“

 

I shook my head without looking up. New tears mingled with the dampness of his shirt. For eternities, we stood side by side silently and he petted my head. The fire creaked and fed of everything we had given to it, and I wished Dean was right and that someone would hug Hester now. Someone who liked her.

 

“I don’t wanna go to hell,“ I whispered.

 

Now it was out in the open, for a moment floating between us like a soap bubble, before it burst.

 

“And you never will.“ The hold on my shoulders was so tight that he almost hurt me and Dean’s eyes were suddenly wild and determined. “Whatever the demons say and whatever some brainless hunters believe, that you of all people are supposed to bring the apocalypse over the world, it’s absolute bullshit!“ He laughed. It sounded like someone had boxed him in his stomach. “I mean, did they even look at you?“ He lifted his arms. “You always cry. You’re even crying now.“

 

His words only made more tears run down.

 

“Until last year, you had an invisible friend with rainbow suspenders and you insisted that I set up a plate for him, too.“ His lips twitched. “Hello? It can’t get any more childish. Then you also peed in your bed until you were five years old and I gotta know. After all I lay next to you.“ He snorted. “And when you were four, you had that phase where you always used the wrong words, cause they seemed more logic to you. “Coffeechino“ and let’s not forget “arc-enemy“.“ Again he laughed, but his eyes looked like they wanted to cry. “What kinda world destroyer does that? As an “arc-enemy“ of all that’s good and right no one can even take you serious.“

 

He leaned down to me, so that our faces were very close to each other, then he pulled me closer and put his head on my shoulder. His hair tickled my cheeks.

 

“Forget what happened, Sammy. You’re not hell’s chosen. You’re a Winchester. You’re my pain in the ass little brother I gotta look after and who alway does the opposite of what he’s told.“

 

It was the way his heart was beating, so close to mine, and the way he couldn’t meet my eyes, that made me realize that we both knew that he was lying and also that we both wished we wouldn’t know.

 

“If Gordon or one of the others come back, I’ll kill him. I promise you.“

 

His voice was a mere whisper in my ear, while my eyes looked past him and into the sky.

 

“There were others?“

 

“It doesn't matter!“ He shrugged, let go of me, and rose. “We gotta go. Dad’s sure worried about us.“

 

Another flash and then a loud crack, as though the world was shattering.

 

“Look!“ I pointed at a spot at the horizon where the clouds were glowing in orange. “Now the sky’s burning.“

 

“I don’t think that’s the sky.“ We were still standing by the smoldering remains of the fire, unmoving. “I think that’s our house.“

 

 

***

 

The path we took appeared much longer to me than back when it was day. As though some sort of magic would make us walk deeper and deeper into the woods and never arrive. The glow at the horizon, where we believed our house was, had long vanished. There was only darkness and rain.

 

“Town should be over there.“

 

I didn’t know how oven I had already said that and then only found more trees and darkness around the next corner. Dean’s limping had gotten worse. So bad that he even let me support him.

 

“We’ll be able to walk better on the real road, besides, from there it’s not that far home.“

 

_Only two miles up that stupid gravel path._

 

Little drops of sweat had gathered on his forehead. He only nodded silently.

 

When we reached the top of the hill, I discovered in relief that my feet stepped onto asphalt and I was wrapped in the dull light of a street lamp. I let go of Dean and looked around. By night everything always looked a little different. As though this was a foreign town on a foreign planet. After I had turned around my own axis, I found the signs I could orientate myself with: a billboard add for cornflakes and a boarded-up pub.

 

“Over there’s the gas station and Anna’s house. Her car’s still there, too. That means they didn’t leave for the wedding, yet.“

 

“What’re you doing?“

 

He tried to catch up with me, rather stumbled than ran. I abruptly stopped in the driveway, so he ran into me.

 

“Well, ring the bell?“

 

“You nuts?! It’s the middle of the night.“

 

There was a dog barking so angrily on the neighbor’s grounds that I flinched. It threw itself against the fence, as though he had only one goal: ripping us apart. Its white teeth stood out from its black fur. I automatically made a step back. The next moment, bright light flooded us that fell outside through the wide open front door. I narrowed my eyes.

 

“Believe me, boy, breaking in here is a real bad idea.“ I heard the safety clip of a gun. “I’ma count to three. If you don’t want a load of lead in your ass, you better get going quickly.“

 


	21. Chapter 21: Forever Trapped Behind Glass

**Chapter 21: Forever Trapped Behind Glass**

 

She barked like the dog and nothing of her voice reminded of the older woman I knew anymore.

 

“Anna?“

 

I lifted my hands to my eyes and tried to see anything through the light coming at me, but she was no more than a black shadow.

 

“Sam Winchester?“ She lowered her shotgun. “What in the world are you doing here?“

 

She stepped out of the cone of light and came towards us. Only a nightgown jittered around her thin body and her feet were bare. Her look flicked like a spark from me to Dean, who was next to me in his wet clothes and his leg bent. In the opal glass pane of the front door my own face looked back at me. The veins in my right eye had burst, making it shine redly. A violet butterfly had put its wings on my neck.

 

_“Like a real demon child.“_

 

“What happened?“

 

With two quick steps she was there. When her warm hands lifted my face, I wanted to start crying again.

 

_“Only babies cry,“_ Dad had always said. I squeezed my lips tight and tried to breathe away the lump in my throat.

 

Tess’ grandpa appeared in the doorway. He was wearing a striped pajama, which I only knew from old TV shows.

 

“You want me to call an ambulance?“

 

“No!“

 

Dean answered before Anna could. She looked at him, as though she saw him for the first time, and when I thought about it I realized that they actually hadn't ever met before. The parts of my life that I had shown her had never touched the parts belonging to my brother.

 

“This is my brother Dean,“ I whispered.

 

He nodded, hiding his face.

 

“We went camping, but then the storm came.“

 

“Camping?“

 

Her look had something intense. As though it could pierce through walls and human hearts.

 

“Yeah, and then we fell into the river and now we really gotta get home.“

 

I reduced the space between me and Dean. We were standing so close to each other now that our thoughts were flowing back and forth between us like electric charge.

 

_“What if she doesn't believe us,“_ I asked him without words.

 

_“Then we run,“_ he answered me with looks.

 

Her look flared, revealing uncertainty and eventually being overwhelmed. I knew that look. It was that same look that built on my teachers’ faces whenever I made the mistake to tell them too much about me. Whenever they found out that I lived in a hotel room and my father was never there.

 

“Are you two really alright?“

 

“Yeah.“ I forced the corners of my mouth up. “Everything’s fine.“

 

“Okay, then…“ She nodded. “Come on in here then and warm up. I’ll get the car keys and drive you home.“

 

“Thanks.“

 

Although it was pleasantly warm inside the house and for the first time for such a long time I didn't have the feeling to freeze anymore, I felt uncomfortable about standing in her hallway. In my brother’s eyes I saw that he felt the same way.

Water was dripping from our clothes to the floor and left puddles on the light wood.

 

“And you two are really alright?“ Tess’ grandpa repeated the question.

 

We nodded synchronously, then all was quiet. He looked to the ground and seemed to feel just as uncomfortable as we did. Only the ticking of the clock on the wall divided the minutes.

 

The door to the study stood open. It was the room I knew since my first visit here that Tess and I weren’t supposed to be in, for we would mess it all up, or even worse, break it.

I always wondered what was behind that door. A secret control center maybe or a treasure of gold?

Curiously, I leaned forward and threw a glance into the small room.

 

Ships in bottles in every size hung on the walls like the miniature armada of some General. Three-masters with white sails, forever trapped behind thick glass.

 

“Wow, those are at least fifty ships.“

 

Even on the desk there was a half-finished ship. Small cans of paint stood next to it in a row.

 

“D’you build them all by yourself?“

 

“Ah, that’s an odd hobby, I know.“ The older man sighed. “But it helps me relax and forget the worries of daily life.“

 

“But how d’you get the ships into the bottles?“ I badly wanted to grab for one of the bottles to coax their secret out of them. But didn’t trust myself, afraid to break something. “The ships are way bigger than the bottlenecks.“

 

He smiled, shoved his glasses back on his nose and went to the desk to pick up the half-finished ship.

 

“The secret is the sails.“ He reached to small wooden ship towards me. “You only stretch them when the ship’s already inside the bottle.“

 

The ship resting in my hand had three poles and a colorful sail. A memory went through me. Strong as a déjà vu.

 

“You keep it, Sammy. I got so many boats that my wife forbid me to put up even more.“ He smiled. “And you can even let it swim.“

 

“You were the one giving Hester that ship back then.“

 

Everything made sense.

 

He flinched back, as though he had burnt himself on me, and I was sure that he would deny it. I already saw him shake his head.

 

_“Hester? Who’s Hester? Besides, there are so many people building boats. What makes you think it was me?“_

 

To my surprise he slowly nodded.

 

“She was such a lonely girl and it’s such a sad story.“ He wasn't here in the hallway with me and my brother anymore. He was in the past with Hester. “I can still see her, how she stood by the bus stop every afternoon and took her time to go home. Everyone knew that the old Evans…“ He shook his head. “I mean, we all gotta fight for a bit of luck, but her…“ He shrugged. “Life isn't fair, Sam. Some fight and fight and still get nothing back.“

 

He had taken one of the ships in bottles in his hand and eyed it so intensely, as though he could find something in the bottle that only he could see.

 

“I often wonder if it would’ve come differently, if I or someone else… but what could’ve been done?“

 

The door opened and a dressed Anna appeared in the hallway.

 

“Ah, never mind…“ He waved his hand dismissively. “It’s such an old story and long over. We should rather live in the here and now, right?“

 

I nodded, while Anna got into her jacket.

 

“You ready to go?“

 

 

**

 

The warmth and the monotone wipe of the windshield wipers over the glass made me sleepy. I leaned my head onto Dean’s shoulder and closed my eyes.

 

“No sleeping.“ He pinched my side. “We’re almost there.“

 

Indeed, the big white house began to show against the dark of the night.

 

The tires of Anna’s car creaked on the wet gravel when it came to a halt.

 

“See, Dean. It didn’t burn down.“

 

I unfastened my seatbelt and opened the door.

 

“But something’s wrong.“

 

Dean was right, even when I couldn’t tell what it was. The house was dark and for a moment I allowed the thought that Dad was gone. That he had left us. What would we do then?

 

Only when the light of a flashlight came towards us, I saw the Impala that had blurred into the night with its black frame.

 

“Kids…“ The voice was Dad’s. “Boys…“ And then, when he had reached us, “My boys…“

 

When he stopped in front of us, for a moment I thought he would hug us or rant, but he didn’t. None of it. He only stopped and then touched first Dean and then me at our shoulders.

 

“They went camping.“ The way Anna said it, it sounded very reproachful. “If it were my kids, I wouldn’t have let them, after all there was a storm warning.“

 

Again Dad nodded.

 

“Thanks for bringing them.“

 

Now Anna nodded.

 

“Maybe… I’d let a doctor have a look at them…“

 

Dad didn’t say anything.

 

“His eye doesn’t look so good.“

 

She pointed at my face, then she stood in the rain uneasily. As though she needed a permission to leave.

 

“What’s that odd smell here?“

 

Only when Dean said it, I also smelled it. There was a smoky note in the rain. As though water and fire had been one and the same element for a moment.

 

“The lightning bolt.“ Dad shrugged. “It hit the house.“


	22. Chapter 22: Some Stars Have already Died

**Chapter 22: Some Stars Have already Died**

 

“Oh my god!“

 

Anna covered her mouth with her hand. That moment, she had forgotten how much she disliked my father. That moment, there was only horror and bewilderment.

 

“How’s that possible? I mean, it already happened exactly ten years ago…“

 

“Lightning always seeks the highest spot,“ Dad cut her off. “If it already struck somewhere, that only shows that you should avoid that place during the next thunderstorm. That this damn house was struck by lightning twice, there’s nothing supernatural about that. It’s just the law of nature.“

 

“Are you alright?“

 

Dean had stepped closer to him. His hands touched his arm, but Dad shoved him away.

 

„I wasn’t inside the house.“ He threw a look over his shoulder at the Impala that kept watch next to the front door like a big black dog. “Was searching for you.“

 

“But the fire…“

 

“It was just a smoldering fire inside the walls and the rain extinguished it.“ Dad shrugged again. “Electricity’s fucked now, though.“

 

Anna kept silent.

 

So we stood there. Four people in the night. The rain made circles dance in the puddles and I imagined it were small fishes surfacing for air.

 

“I should go now.“

 

Dad nodded. Anna rummaged in her bag.

 

“Thanks again, Anna, and have fun at the wedding.“

 

“If you or your family ever need help…“

 

“We’re fine.“

 

“I just mean because of the house. You can’t keep living…“

 

“We’ll be fine.“

 

“Yeah, of course.“

 

She slowly turned to her car. Each of her steps was so slow, as though lead weight was stuck to her legs. I walked with her and held open the door for her.

 

“Greet Tess for me.“

 

“I will, Sam.“

 

She ran a hand over my face, as though she had the hope that the rain and some warmth could wash away the bruises.

 

Her smile was heavy as the rain.

 

For a moment, I thought she would grab me, throw me onto the back bench, and head off. Then she got into the car and started it.

 

“Grab your stuff and go to bed,“ I head Dad when the car’s back lights slowly got lost in the darkness. “Tomorrow morning, as soon as there’s daylight, we’ll leave.“

 

 

***

 

I stood in the grass in the living room and looked at the wall and the forest behind it. Actually, not that much had changed. It was still the same crack where the sound of the falling rain wafted inside. A little wider maybe, and that the charred edges were still humming and flickering with electricity, like invisible waves that wrapped around the whole world.

 

“You think the house will collapse?“ I asked my brother, who had come to stand behind me. “Is that why Dad wants to leave?“

 

Dean lifted his shoulders.

 

“I think it’s rather cause of the youth welfare service.“

 

Both of us knew that there was only one thing Dad was more afraid of than of Yellow Eyes, a nest full of vampires, and a hoard of werewolves together, and that was the youth welfare service.

 

“Besides, Gordon attacked you and we don’t know if he’ll try again.“

 

I nuzzled up to him.

 

“He doesn’t need to be scared that Anna calls the youth welfare service, she didn’t do that with Hester either.“

 

He didn’t answer me, only put an arm around my shoulder and looked through the crack into the night.

 

“They’re still good people,“ I whispered against his body, feeling his chest vibrate with his “hmm“.

 

Maybe the old house hadn’t wanted to kill us. Maybe it still loved my brother and me and now that it knew what had happened, it cried for us. Wetness gathered on the ceiling in dark taints and dripped down onto Dean’s leather jacket.

 

“Come on, Sam. Off to bed.“

 

There was a tiredness inside me that made every thought and every question freeze. I knew that it would be better to listen to Dean, go upstairs, get out of my wet clothes, and sleep, but I couldn't yet.

 

“Gordon wasn’t wrong,“ I whispered through the falling rain and the rustle of the leaves. This night was so long, as though it would never end. “I can feel it… I’ve always felt it.“

 

Dean was staring into the darkness, unmoving.

 

“Please.“ I swallowed. “Please tell me the truth.“

 

He kept silent for so long that I almost hadn’t expected any answer anymore. When he spoke his voice sounded like it was underwater.

 

“Maybe there is no truth, Sammy. Maybe the truth is different for everyone.“

 

“Then tell me your truth.“

 

He shook his head.

 

“My truth…“ The corners of his mouth twitched. “I’ll tell you my truth: That night when we hunted that werewolf, Dad sent me to its house.“

 

I was surprised, because that story had nothing to do with me, but he was too far away for me to pull him back.

 

“Dad said I gotta go inside and do the job, while he gives me cover. He also said it was only one.“

 

He sounded so young when I touched his arm. So damn young.

 

“When I opened the door, there was only that girl. She was younger than you, eight at most, sitting at the table and playing with her Barbies. I could tell by her eyes right away that something was wrong with her, that she wasn’t human.“ He sobbed. “But I still couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger, you know? She was only a kid.“

 

He tried to shake off the memories, but he didn’t manage to. A tear ran down his cheek and than another one. All I could do was stand there, stupid and useless and as if frozen, and hold onto his arm.

 

“I wasn’t attentive enough and that’s the biggest mistake a hunter can do. That’s how he could attack me from behind.“ He shook his head. “The pain was so heavy that I though it’d rip me apart. That it was over now. That I’d die now, you know? Dad was screaming and then I heard the first shot, and when I sank down, the second one followed.“

 

He wiped his eyes.

 

“I’ll never forget that. Her cat eyes, widening by fear and then turning empty. The doll with the pink dress falling to the ground.“

 

He turned away. I knew he was ashamed of his tears.

 

“Dean…“

 

Words… so helpless.

 

“The truth is that her and her father killed at least one person each full moon night and that nothing, absolutely nothing, could have stopped them. So it was right to kill them.“

 

He bit his lips. His voice was only a whisper now.

 

“But the truth also is that it didn’t feel that way.“

 

“I’m so sorry.“

 

I knew he didn’t want to be hugged. Not in a situation like that. Not when he was in danger to tear away the high walls he had built around himself. I hugged him anyway and he shoved me away.

 

“Stop it!“ He fought me off with his hand. “You wanted to hear the truth about me. So listen, even when you don’t like it.“

 

His voice wasn't underwater anymore, his voice was the churning sea.

 

“Dad’s right. I could’ve said no, but I never did!“

 

So many tears. Usually, he always cried in secret. In the bathroom of the hotel or under his blanket, when he though I was asleep.

 

“I wanted it like that, even when I also hated it.“ He sniffed. “Even when he hurts me and every time his beard scratches over my cheek I wanna throw up and never wanna stop to.“

He took a breath. “The truth is that every time he does those… things… with me… when his hands move over my body, when he tells me I’m pretty, just as pretty as Mom…“ He trailed off. “Those are the only moments he sees me. The only moments I’m worth something.“ Another sob. “And the truth is that we all know that that’s the only thing close to love or affection I can expect in this life. So I take it.“

 

“Dean…“

 

I wanted to say something so badly. Something like, _“Please stop hurting yourself“_ or something else. Something to comfort him, but I couldn’t come up with anything. Maybe there were no fitting words. Maybe there are things in this world that are just too sad to fix them.

 

Inside the crack there were the first stars between open clouds now. Some stars we can see are already dead, so much I know. The light drowning in my brother’s eyes is old.

 

I reached out my hand and imagined the crack’s edges to still gleam and that I would burn my hand, if I touched them. There was still a vague smell of fire in the air.

 

“Was it like this back then?“

 

“No.“

 

He shook his head. Maybe I should have been surprised that he knew exactly what night I was talking about, but I wasn’t.

 

“Back then, there was an actual fire, not just a gleam.“ He shook his head at the wall. “You think a house would burn down somehow tactically.“ Slowly, his tears ran dry.

 

“That first some sofa and then the curtains would catch fire, that you’d have time to run outside, but that’s not what it’s like.“ He took a deep breath. “When a house really burns, it all happens real fast. It’s like a cloud of fire that just explodes. There’s this unbelievable hear and the smell…“ He broke off. “That’s how I imagine hell, Sammy, that all you love burns and you can’t do anything about it.“

 

“How did you get out?“

 

He shrugged.

 

“I dunno. I probably knew the way, besides, I had you.“

 


	23. Chapter 23: There Came Two Hunters in the Sunset

Chapter 23: There Came Two Hunters in the Sunset

Dean smiled, but then turned serious again.

“There came two hunters in the sunset. The one had messy dark hair sticking out from his head, and the other wore a cloak that reached down to the hollows of his knees. I still know that that surprised me, cause it was summer and warm.“

Again I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t interrupt him.

“You don’t make something like that up. Right?“

I nodded automatically.

“They came up the hill and knocked on our front door.“

“At our house in Kansas when the fire happened?“

He shook his head.

“That was in November and not in the summer, you goof. The hunters came way later. You could walk already and talk a little and your favorite hobby was to be a pain in my ass. You see, nothing really changed that much, besides the fact maybe that you were still in diapers at the time.“ Another brief smile scurried over his face. “When I saw the men through our kitchen window I knew that something was wrong, even before Dad sent me to the next room. “Take care of your brother“,“ he imitated Dad’s voice, then he fell silent.

“What did those men want from us?“

Once again, he didn’t really listen to me. Probably because his thoughts were in the place I couldn't remember.

“For years I believed that I just dreamt all that,“ he muttered. “Sometimes I dream of horrible things…“

He took a breath. “In the dream I opened the door a crack, while you were playing with a can of soap bubbles all quietly. I remember the men’s voices and their words that didn’t make any sense.“

I was also there. Standing next to him in my thoughts.

“What did they say?“

“That Dad was a hunter. That he knew by then what had happened to Mom and who’s fault it was.“

Dean’s smile looked so agonized.

“I don’t know if Dad really nodded or if I only imagined that and it then turned into a memory. They said that they’re sorry but it was the only chance to stop the disaster and save the world.“ He grimaced. “That everyone needs to make sacrifices and that he was the future leader of demons and they had to kill him while they still had the chance to.“ He took a deep breath. “I still know that I kept wondering what kind of horrible monster they were talking about. But then…“

Dean was slightly shaking. I came closer, wrapped my arms around him. I needed to be close to him. This time he didn’t shove me away.

“The one in the cloak told Dad that it was best for everyone if he did it himself. That it’d go fast and he wouldn't even feel it. Or else they’d do it, but they couldn't guarantee for anything. He also said that he wasn’t Dad’s real son. He wasn't even a real human being.“

The rain had let up. Only a few single drops were playing their melody on the windows and the roof. Dad was snoring in the next room and everything seemed to have fallen out of the world.

“When Dad opened the door I’d hidden behind… I was so sure he’d shoot me. Everything made sense. The thing with Mom and the house…“

“But Dean…“

He made me shut up by just drawing me even closer.

“He knew I knew it. He probably saw it in my eyes. He put his index finger on his lips. “Just trust me, Dean“ and I did. I closed my eyes and waited for the shot, but there was none. When I opened my eyes again, Dad was with you and took you into his arms. “What d’you think, Sammy? You wanna go on a trip?“ “Oh yeah.““

His tears fell into my hair.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy. You were so little, you didn’t even know what people are capable of and I was so relieved that I didn’t try to stop them. I just stood there and watched them take you away. Three hunters throwing long shadows. Only when I heard shooting, I started crying.“

“But I’m still alive, how…“

Again he cut me off.

“Only Dad came back that night and he had you in his arms. “Take care of your brother“ And when I still didn’t react, he grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me. “Forget what you saw, Dean. Forget that anyone was here, forget that we walked into the woods and then forget that you needed to forget all that.“ And that’s what I did.“

By his eyes I could tell that he had arrived in the here and now.

“I never heard of the other hunters again or saw them or thought of them. The next day, Dad showed me how to shoot a gun for the very first time. But then…“

He seemed to pick every word with much thought. Like in an Indiana Jones movie when you had to exchange the treasure’s weight with the exact measure so the traps don’t go off.

“The day you turned ten, they… I mean the demons.“ He swallowed. “They murdered that family in Laurence. They wrote your name all over the walls with the blood of their hearts.“

Everything within me was trembling.

“But…“

I had thought that after this night there would be nothing that could hurt me anymore. I had been wrong. I clawed onto Dean the way I had done by the river. As though he was my piece of wood in a world made of water and I wished I had a heart made of asbestos. One that was so fireproof that even the flames of hell couldn't harm it.

“But why did they do that? I didn’t want that.“

He moved a hand over my head and somehow it was crazy how much we had cried that night. As though we were squandering all the tears that were supposed to last a whole life in just one single night.

“They’re demons, Sammy.“

I remembered my tenth birthday into detail. I mean, it was only four months ago. We were stuck in a small town near Sacramento and Dean had insisted that we ate at Perkins Family Restaurant at the dessert buffet.

“You only turn ten once,“ he had said, looking at me like a whole lifetime was between him and his own tenth birthday and not just four years.

I didn’t want to celebrate at Perkins. I wanted a dad who wasn't working some vampire case; I wanted homemade birthday cakes and friends bringing me presents. I wanted a mom who wasn’t dead but one that kissed me and told me how much I’d grown. I wanted all of that, and not Dean and red plastic chairs.

“But your add says that the dessert buffet’s only 3,99.“ He held the leaflet into the waitress’ face.

“But only if you ordered a main menu first.“ She threw a bored look at her scribbling pad. “Or else it’s 6,99.“

“But it doesn't say that anywhere.“

He kept looking around to me and tried to speak in a lower voice, as though I couldn't hear it then.

“You wanna order or leave again?“

I leaned against the table and buried my face between my arms. I had always believed that being ten would change anything. That all of a sudden you get taller, stronger, and above all happier. But being ten changed nothing. Everything was still just as stupid and sad as it was with nine.

“Look, I got you a slice of birthday cake.“ He put down a colorful plate with a big slice of chocolate cake in front of me. “And later you can go to the buffet and get some more.“

He pulled his lips to a typical Dean smile.

“And you?“

“Ah…“ He waved it off. “I don’t like cake that much. So it’s not worth it so much for me, and besides, it’s your birthday.“

He settled in the seat across the table and looked at me in expectation.

“Does it taste good? Oh and you gotta imagine the candles.“

I didn’t only have to imagine the candles but also the family and the festively decorated living room and the whole life I didn’t live.

He was still looking at me, so I took the fork, picked up a bite, and led it to my mouth. Chocolate and sweetness exploded in my mouth. Normally, I would have liked the taste. Today, it made my eyes water.  
I picked up another bite and stuffed it into my mouth, and then another one. Tears fell down onto the cocoa frosting and smeared it.

“Hey, Sammy…“ Dean sounded as helpless as I felt. “The best is yet to come. Your present.“

He put a small parcel wrapped in a newspaper page in front of me. I was still scrunching the cake with my fork. Swallowing chunks and tears.

“I’ll unwrap it for you, okay?“ He revealed a small bundle. “It’s dried lavender.“ He put it next to my plate. “You remember? You said the kids in your school bully you, cause you always wear the same clothes and cause we wash them way to rarely, but now you got a bag of dried lavender. You can put it in your pocket and then everything smells fine.“

He lifted it like a trophy. That was the moment all the levees inside me broke.

“Sammy?“ He shook my shoulders. “What did I do wrong?“

They say you can only miss something you know, but that was wrong. I wiped my eyes, smeared chocolate cream and tears in my face. I could long for a life that had ended when I was half a year old.

“Dean?“

I slowly surfaced from my memories.

“Yeah?“

The wind was playing with the trees’ leaves and our hair.

“Did Mom die because of me?“

He moved his head to and fro. Turned away.

“What does it matter?“

“I need to know.“

“What for?“ He shook his head. “She’s dead, okay? That’s all you need to know. She’s dead and she won’t come back, no matter what happened back then and who’s fault it was. No matter if you struggle with blames or not.“

“Tell me… please.“

I knew he was right. That night had left both of us battered and yet I had to dug deeper, like picking a wound that was inflamed.

“You think Mom was still alive if it weren’t for me?“

His lips turned into a thin line, then he nodded and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“You always attracted the darkness, Sammy, but that doesn't mean that… well, animals that live in the dark, moths and such, they don’t get attracted by even more darkness either.“ He trailed off. “I think Mom knew it and she still protected you.“ He pushed out his lower lip. “And that’s what she died for.“

I buried my face in his arms again. I had hoped that I would feel better when I knew the truth. It hadn't worked out that way.  
His fingers trailed circles through my hair and I felt far too empty to ask the next question.

“You sometimes wish I was never born?“

“Thanks,“ I said instead. I wiped my nose on my t-shirt.

“What for?“

“For everything.“

Like that we stood there and held each other.


	24. Chapter 24: Something the Devil Doesn’t Know

**Chapter 24: Something the Devil Doesn’t Know**

 

“It’s almost three in the night.“ When he let go of me I missed his warmth. Goosebumps lay over my arms. “So, off to bed with you so we’ll get at least a few hours of sleep.“

 

He shoved me towards the hallway. Between shreds of clouds the moon peeked out and it was only a tiny little bitten off.

 

“Let’s run away, Dean.“

 

I grabbed his hand.

 

“That’s stupid. Your last try already ended in a near-catastrophe.“

 

“This time I’m with you and we’ll take the car.“

 

I pointed outside to the front door.

 

“Come on, Dean. Take me away from here. We’ll drive to the end of the world. Only us.“

 

“And what would we live of there?“

 

He acted indifferent, but by the way he looked outside, by that longing glint in his eyes, I could tell that he was at least considering it. Probably, the Impala lured him.

 

“I still got two dollars from Hester’s treasure. Also, we could become town musicians or gold diggers or we fake credit cards like Dad.“ I held his hand so tightly that I was surely hurting him. “I wouldn't have to go to school anymore. You said that you learn much more about life through music anyway, besides, I can read books.“

 

My voice almost flipped over, turned louder and louder, while he turned more and more quiet.

 

“We’ll go somewhere nobody knows us and where we can just be Dean and Sam.“ I pulled at his hand, but he didn’t move. “Please, Dean.“ I wiped the tears off my eyes. “We’ll find something better than death anywhere.“

 

He shook his head silently. The light behind his eyes was switched off.

 

“There’s no place in the world where we can be just Sam and Dean.“ He crouched down to me and moved a strand of hair behind my ear. “They’d find us anywhere.“ Dean stood back up. His smile was sad, too. “Besides, Dad needs us. He doesn't have anyone else taking care of him.“

 

I nodded.

 

One day, Dean’s loyalty towards Dad would disconnect, I could feel it. But not now. Not now.

 

“Come on now. Off to bed.“

 

This time I made no resistance.

 

 

***

 

The stairs creaked under his weight, then he stood in front of me.

 

“You let me under your sheets?“

 

I wasn’t surprised that Dean came to me. I had rather wondered what had taken him so long.

 

“Aren’t you actually too old to share a bed with your brother?“

 

I shuffled to the wall and made room for him.

 

“My own bed is wet.“

 

“You need diapers?“

 

He poked his tongue out at me.

 

“Haha, by the rainwater, you idiot.“

 

He was all cold. I still nuzzled up to him.

 

 

For a while, we just lay next to each other and looked at the water stains that had spread here, too.

 

“What happened to the two brothers?“ He braced on his elbow and turned to me. Now that the moon shone through the window again I could see the color of his eyes even in the dark.

 

“What brothers?“

 

“Well, those of that riddle. You know, the one who always lies and the one who always tells the truth.“

 

I pondered.

 

“Well, they still live in their house in the woods together.“

 

“I can imagine that they always argue. I mean, one of them keeps lying.“

 

“No.“ I shook my head. “They don’t know it any different and the brother who tells the truth still likes his brother. Besides, he knows what his brother actually means.“

 

“But he’s always lying.“

 

“He still knows, and if they argue at times, then he goes to town and the other chops timber in the garden and waits for a lonely wanderer to come by and ask for directions, but at the latest in the evening everything’s fine again. Then they sit together in the kitchen again and tell each other about their day.“

 

Dean smiled.

 

“That sounds nice.“ Then he turned onto his back and looked at the ceiling again. “But what I actually wanted to ask was: What is the one question you need to ask the brothers to get through the forest safely?“

 

“Which way would your brother tell me to go?“

 

“Really?“ He seemed to think about that.

 

“Yeah, and then you gotta go the other way.“ I yawned. “You may never do what the brothers tell you to.“

 

Dean nodded, then silence spread between us. I thought he had fallen asleep until I heard his whisper very close to my ear.

 

“Are you okay again?“

 

It was strange that he of all people asked that. While he was the one with the injured leg and all the things on his soul that I didn’t understand.

 

I shrugged. Actually, everything was like before, only a little sadder.

 

“I know you think that you don’t deserve all the things you ever wished for, but that’s not true.“

 

Sometimes I was scared of how different we were and sometimes it scared me how alike we were. He moved closer to me. Put his hand to my cheek, making me look at him.

 

“You’ll get everything, Sammy. The house with the white facade, all the friends. You’ll sure go to uni some day, cause you’re so smart, and surely you’ll also marry, cause even ghost girls fall in love with you.“ I heard him chuckle. “And then you’ll have kids and a great job and a fat old dog and you’ll all sit on the porch and have a barbecue.“ His voice sounded thick. “And when you’re old and look back on your life, you’ll think about how stupid you were with ten to think that you wouldn't ever be happy again.“

 

“I don’t think that…“

 

“Ah come on!“ he cut me off. “What does it matter what some prophecies say about your destiny?“ His voice was trembling and he sounded so different to the brother I knew. “There’s a light burning inside you, Sammy, and no demon and no angel can touch it or take it from you. They don’t even know it even exists.“ He swallowed. “But I know. So promise me that you’ll be happy, yeah?“

 

He leaned his head against me.

 

“I need you to be happy.“

 

Comfort needs time and many hugs and I don’t think that you can be happy for someone else. I would have liked to explain that to him, but I couldn't do that. He was the best big brother in the world, so I smiled, buried my nose in his short hair and nodded.

 

“Okay.“

 

“Really?“

 

“Mhm.“ I nodded again. “I promise.“

 

He kissed my forehead before he sank back into the bed.

 

“That’s good, and now sleep already.“ He ran a hand over his face again, took away the last traces of tears with it. “You’re really the most annoying little brother one could imagine.“ He touched my cheek again before he turned on his side. “Always keeping me awake.“

 

 

***

 

Sleep didn’t want to find me. Maybe I was too tired to be able to sleep? My throat still burned when I swallowed. I turned to my brother and watched his sleeping face.

The last remaining freckles on his cheek were like paling stars when the day begins. So badly, I wanted to touch them one last time before they would vanish, but I didn’t want to wake him. So I turned onto my back and imagined someone would turn off gravity. Then everything, Hester’s bed, my bag, and the desk, would float. Then there would be no bottom and no top anymore but we would all just fly to the sky and disappear in space. That probably wouldn't be too good.

 

With a sigh I climbed out of bed over the foot end to not wake Dean. There was no sense. I couldn't sleep anyway so in the moonlight I went to Hester’s desk and thought about what to pack in my bag.

The maths book was resting on top, under it there were Hester’s notes about the Aral Sea.

I looked to Dean who was still asleep and suddenly it dawned on me that Dean was just like the Aral Sea.

He was big and clear and at his coasts people found anything they needed. But then someone cut his feeder rivers and led his water onto their fields and someone else let their wastewater stream into him. He became smaller and smaller, without anyone noticing, and where he resiled there was only a desert of salt left.

Someone had to do something before only a small puddle was left where no life was possible anymore.

Anyone.

 

With the maths book in my hand I went back to the bed. Dean’s torso rose and sank evenly and although he was so tall that his feet stood out from under the sheets, his face looked like that of a child.

 

“You’re not worthless,“ I whispered and touched his hand. “You matter.“

 

And that feeling was so big, as though someone would have turned off gravity. It had no beginning and no end, no top and no bottom.

 

“I love you…“ I straightened the blanket, the way the mom in some movie I had seen had done it. “And I’ll watch over you, okay? So no one can do anything to you anymore.“

 

Then I climbed back into bed, put an arm around him, and fell asleep.

 

 

***

 

“I’m sorry, house.“

 

I touched the ivy tendrils infesting the house like an illness and the crumbling brickwork.

We both knew that it came to an end. That, when we shut the door, no other family would come. That in a few years the ivy would be growing over nothing more than loose stones.

 

“Maybe there’s also a heaven for houses?“

 

It wasn’t unrealistic, after all there were a lot of people wishing for a house and it’s known that in heaven all wishes come true.

 

“Sam! Come already.“ That was Dad, and then, turning to Dean, “What’s your brother doing there?“

 

“I’m coming.“

 

I stood up and ran to the Impala without a look back. The world was still made of dawn and twilight.

 

Dean sat in the backseat and was thumbing through a car magazine, while Dad made the engine roar from the driver’s seat.

 

“Come, sit in the front,“ Dad said and beckoned to the passenger’s seat. “After all, you’re not a kid anymore. You can watch me drive. I can even teach you.“

 

In silver puddles the grey sky mirrored.

 

I opened the trunk and threw in my bag.

 

“Thanks, Dad, but I’ll sit with Dean.“

 

“If you want.“

 

He shrugged, then the car started moving.

 

“You want, too?“

 

Dean reached out one of his headphones of his Discman. I nodded and put it in my ear.

 

This time, it wasn’t Nirvana but some older Rock disc.

 

_Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’_

_I don’t know where I’ll be tomorrow_

_Wheel in the sky keeps on turnin’_

 

And while the song’s lines were dancing through my head and we were driving past fields that were just as yellow as Hester’s hair, the first rays of sunlight broke through the sky. Dean and I looked in the same direction and in front of us on the road, where our glances embraced, the day was dawning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear readers,  
> This is the last part of snail shell brothers. I hope you enjoyed this story. I wanted to thank you again for the kudos and comments. I am already busy writing a new story, but because I upload only when I have finished it may still take a little while. Maybe you will stop by? I'd be pleased.
> 
> Greetings yours
> 
> Polly

**Author's Note:**

> This story was translated from German by the lovely SiSuSi. I'm not a native speaker, but I do understand and very much appreciate your feedback.


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